Share My Dream
by C.Queen
Summary: Yusuf's experimenting leads Arthur and Eames to unknowingly share their real dreams during the Fischer job each night. Only these aren't their normal dreams as they imagine different worlds where they seem destined to meet and set off their usual sparks. From thieves to athletes, Ancient Rome to the future, it's anyone's guess what sort of dream they'll share each night.
1. Cat Burglar

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy.

Cat Burglar

Opening his eyes Eames quickly took stock of his surroundings, recognizing the warehouse that he was in and the chair he was sitting in. A bloody uncomfortable one, which he probably had Arthur to thank for, the forger thought ruefully as he automatically turned his head to look for his team's point man, finding him awake as well and in the process of stretching out his arms. Meeting the man's gaze Eames offered him a saucy grin, loving the fact that Arthur sniffed in his 'lord of the manor' way and turned his back on him.

He did so love toying with the other man.

Unhooking himself Eames stretched as well and then checked the time, smiling when he saw that he wasn't too late to catch the game on the telly if he hurried. Most excellent.

"That it for the day then?" Eames asked Dom, grin widening when the other man nodded. "Well in that case I'm off to watch the game." His impish side had him giving Arthur a flirty look, throwing in a wink for good measure. "Care to come back with me, Darling? We're missing what's sure to be one hell of a bloody good football game at the moment."

"Thanks but there's a soccer game I'm hoping to catch." Was the point man's oh so sweet reply.

Blood pressure rising, especially since he knew Arthur did it on purpose, Eames scowled. "It's not called bloody soccer! When are you damn Yanks…it's football!"

"Soccer."

"Football!"

Back and forth the two went as they collected their stuff before heading for the exit, leaving their teammates to watch them with varying degrees of amusement.

"What was that all about?" Ariadne asked, Yusuf glad she'd asked since he was curious as well.

Dom smirked. "One of the few things those two have in common is that they love English football, aka American soccer. They both played when they were younger and they actually cheer for the same professional team. Arthur likes to drive Eames mad by calling it soccer just to piss him off."

"Ah." Nodding in understanding Yusuf was about to comment on the fact that he'd never been into sports much himself when something else occurred to him. "Drat, I forgot to ask the two of them if they experienced anything different in their dream sessions. I've been experimenting a little, trying to increase their awareness of the other to see if that makes it easier for them to move between their dreams."

"Well tomorrow they'll have watched their game and gotten a good night's sleep." Dom pointed out even as he covertly gave the chemist a look that made it clear he didn't want the man talking about 'experimenting' on them around Ariadne. "They should be more inclined to work together and answer your questions provided their team wins."

)

Eames' Dream

Absently rolling his shoulders as he walked down the dark, deserted hallway, Eames told himself to head back to the guest bedroom even as he continued to head towards the stairs that would take him down to the first floor. His destination was the weight room which was situated in the house's basement, the original thought being that he could work himself over to the point where he'd be too tired not to sleep. But since he'd been trying to do precisely that for the last three nights without success Eames knew he was on a fool's errand.

He hated the idea of taking sleeping aids, and the workout would at least benefit him to a certain extent, but he wasn't so stupid that he thought he wasn't headed for serious trouble if he didn't get his head on straight. As a professional athlete he needed to be in top form physically and mentally and he just wasn't. Thus far his team had not been doing well, the fans and media were on them like rabid dogs, and as icing on the cake he was starting to see playing football as a job instead of the game he'd always loved more than anything, even sex.

And saying so had lost him more lovers than he cared to think about it.

Shaking his head at the thought Eames's lips were about to curve ruefully when he sensed the change in the air, a knowing that he'd developed since he'd become good enough to be watched and hunted by the bloody media whenever they got the chance.

He was being watched and there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the house.

The eyes on him had been fleeting, and a little voice in his head was telling him that maybe he was so tired he was imagining things, but his gut said no and that the quick but intense look had not been a product of his mind.

Someone else was in the house.

Acting as though nothing was wrong Eames continued to move forward, his gaze straight ahead, knowing that the eyes had come from the dark hallway in front of him. Turning when he reached the stairs Eames walked all the way down them and then turned to wait, wanting to see what the unknown person was up to, mentally keeping track of the time as he waited two minutes before surmising that it wasn't him the man or woman was there to see. A burglar then? His friend Dom, who owned the house, was an art collector and had some pretty valuable pieces in his collection.

Not about to let his friend be robbed, and he wasn't going to call the guarda in unless he could confirm this wasn't a wild goose chase, Eames quietly slinked back up the stairs and made his way into the hallway, his ears tuned for the slightest noise that might indicate he was nearing his intended prey.

There was no warning, he didn't notice that one of the doors was open until it was too late, a shadow suddenly moving out of the doorway and then a prick as something was injected into his neck before he hand a chance to defend himself.

Everything went dark.

)

Waking up groggily Eames became aware of his situation slowly, registering the fact that he was in shadowy darkness thanks to the open drapes nearby. Shaking his head as he tried to clear it Eames's body tensed as he recalled what had happened, adrenaline clearing his head quickly now as he took in the fact that he was in Dom's study and that he appeared to be lying on the floor handcuffed, with his hands behind his back and the chain part threaded through the fireplace grate. He hadn't been gagged and his feet weren't tied, not that either fact would save him at the moment.

"You're awake already. Good."

The voice was male and American, Eames turning his head towards the built in bookcase, only just able to make out the shadowy shape of the man who'd drugged him. "And why is that good, pray tell?" He wasn't going to betray for a moment that he at all feared what the man intended to do to him now that he was physically restrained.

"I wasn't going to leave until I was sure you'd be all right, you being awake means I won't have to wait. People react to drugs in different ways, and I'd hate to harm one of my favorite soccer players."

"I don't play bloody soccer, I play football, you damn Yank." He hated the fact that the Americans had decided they could just up and screw with the name of his beloved game and was never shy about saying so. Belatedly remembering the rest of it Eames's straightened slightly. "And since I'm one of your favorite football players I suppose you have no interest in ending my career prematurely?"

A low, rather sexy chuckle was the other man's response. "You're safe from harm, Mr. Eames. If I put my hands on you my intent wouldn't be violence." A pause to let that sink in. "I'm almost done here and then I'll leave."

Okay, it was probably horribly wrong to be sexual intrigued by a man who'd drugged and handcuffed him, but Eames had to admit…he was feeling the sizzle that they were starting to generate between them now that he knew the man was interested in him. It had been far too bleeding long since he'd had a decent shag, and the danger the other man presented was reeving him up in more ways than one.

"So you're a thief then?"

"Your friend would say so, though what I've come to take was stolen in the first place."

Straining his eyes as he tried to see what the man was up to Eames remained quiet as the thief went back to what he was doing with a small penlight that illuminated the book titles but didn't cast enough light to reveal anything about its holder.

And then he heard the sound of a book being removed from its place, the crinkle of paper, and then the sound of the book being slid back into place.

"All this for a piece of paper?"

While Eames watched the thief turned off the penlight and then started towards him, the way he moved reminding him of a cat so that Eames decided to change his mental label to that of cat burglar since that suited his mystery man better.

"The value of the paper…well let's just say you could ask your friend next time you see him, but he won't tell you since he won't be reporting any of this to your police. Wouldn't want them knowing he was buying stolen property after all."

Watching the man move to straddle him, something he definitely didn't object to, Eames remained still as leather covered fingers cupped his cheeks, the man's breath on his lips as he lowered his head. "And sorry about this, but before I go there really is just one thing I have to do."

Opening his mouth to inquire as to what that was Eames found the words lost in his throat as the other man's lips pressed against his in a fierce, passionate kiss that translated to him being reduced to a puddle of sizzling, moaning goo very quickly. And that was before his cat added his tongue to the equation.

Moaning low in his throat when the other man pulled away from the kiss after fully exploring his mouth, Eames cursed the fact that he couldn't grab the man and take charge of the situation. Instead, he had to use words.

"I didn't say you could stop snogging my brains out, Darling. Get back to it."

There was a pause and then a chuckle. "Lucky you I read the Harry Potter books, so I know what you just said."

And then those lips were back on his and Eames made his approval obvious by snogging the man with everything he had, adding teeth and tongue to the equation for good measure. He'd always been the type to play with fire so to speak, and it had been far too long since he'd been burned this good. They were only kissing, for fuck's sake, but he was hard as a bleeding rock.

His sexy little thief was obviously feeling the heat too, given the fact that he was moaning like a first rate porn star despite the fact that they hadn't even rounded first base yet.

Or so Eames thought until he belatedly clued into the fact that his kitty cat was now straddling one of his thighs, rubbing his erection against the hard muscle there to pleasure himself while they snogged. And that had him moaning right back, suddenly needing to know what sounds the other man would make if he was riding something else. Something that was aching painfully and more than ready to be ridden as it happened.

Hormones taking over the reins Eames broke off the kiss to place several quick kisses along the man's firm jaw until his lips were close to the thief's ear, nipping it hard before whispering in it. "How about riding something a lot more fun, Darling?"

Going still Eames heard the quiver in the man's voice. "Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"Pretty sure I am."

"Holy shit." Silence. "Holy shit. You are. Oh fuck, dammit. I don't do one night stands! I don't do the casual and…and shit you're Tom Eames! You're numero uno on my list of famous men I'd empty my bank account for a chance at. Hell, you replaced BECKHAM on my list, though that's partly because I'd at least have a chance with you since he's straight and married. I've got this thing about your mouth though and…crap…I'm working here. Are you serious? You really want to fuck me?"

Eames couldn't help but laugh, completely charmed at the way his cool and professional thief had been turned into an adorable, even more appealing man who fancied him more than Beckham. "I'm not one for the one night stand either, Darling…but yes, I want you riding my cock the way you were riding my thigh so bad I can fucking taste it."

"Oh man." Leaning forward the thief pressed close to Eames for another hard, eager kiss before drawing back, nipping Eames's bottom lip before nodding. "I'm going to kick myself for being this foolhardy for hours later, but to hell with it." Another kiss. "And lucky us, your friend apparently entertains his women in here. I found his stash earlier." The thief added, Eames having to bit back a whimper as the other man smoothly got to his feet and out of his reach. "Be right back."

Desperately watching the man walk over to Dom's desk and open one of the drawers Eames couldn't believe he was doing this even as he accepted the fact that he was prepared to beg if that's what it took to convince his cat to fuck him. So much for his determination to not fall into the stereotype about professional athletes and their perchance for one night stands.

And oh crap. "Uhm…can I have a first name and your age, Darling? You don't have to tell me anything else."

"Why would that be important?" The thief asked as he came back over, a smile in his voice.

"Because I promised my mum I'd never sleep with someone whose name, age, and occupation I didn't know."

Laughter greeted his words, Eames biting back a groan when he felt the other man's hands start to pull down his sweatpants, automatically lifting his hips to make it easier. And then he heard the sound of packing being ripped, completely forgetting all about the name issue as he felt the condom being slid over his erection.

The sound of his cat burglar's zipper being undone finished off his ability to hold a thought that didn't have to do with sex.

"Arthur. Almost thirty one."

In some part of his brain Eames processed that, but again the majority of his focus went to what the other man's hands were up to, deliriously happy when he felt the man's newly bared hand wrap around his length to distribute the lube Dom had apparently been storing in the desk as well, thank you, God. And it just got that much better when his soon to be lover stopped preparing him and turned his attention to preparing himself, Eames having to actively fight back his impending orgasm as he listened to the little sounds the other man made in the back of his throat as he used his own fingers to work himself loose.

It was probably for the best that he couldn't see what the man was doing or he would have embarrassed himself.

And though he knew it wasn't going to happen Eames had to ask anyway, too used to dominating and being the aggressor not to. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to unchain me so that I could participate more?" Not to mention this was going to be annoying short if they rushed it like this and he had the definite feeling they'd both be missing out.

"No, I haven't lost all my common sense, just the majority of it." Was the man possibly named Arthur's response, the words panted out and heavy with need. "But I'll make it up to you."

Licking his lips at the promise Eames couldn't want to have his present circumstances made up to him and he didn't have to wait long. Apparently his thief was just as eager, he barely got a few more kissed and stroking touches over his chest before the other man got down to the main event so to speak.

The man's ass still tight enough to make Eames's eyes all but roll back in his head as the other man's hand guided him inside of his hot little hole, not being nearly as slow as he probably should. Fuck but his thief was wet and hot and squeezing all around him so strongly that he was afraid to move before Arthur gave him the go ahead.

Cursing a blue streak made Eames feel a little better, his hands in fists and his whole body taunt as a bow as he waited to be fully seated, panting out the man's name in question when he was fully sheathed.

"Now I make it up to you."

And that was an understatement.

Unable to do more than try and jerk his lower half up in time with the other man's thrusts Eames's head dropped back, eyes closed since they were useless as he lost himself in his other senses, ears ringing with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and cries of need and pleasure that slipped through both their lips as Arthur angled his body just right. The hands pressed against his chest that were being used to control the thrusts seemed to burn into his flesh, seeming to claim it as his own as he was ridden to the ground with a thoroughness that guaranteed this was going to be a memorable encounter even without all the other stuff.

He was right about that too, especially since shortly after the explosive orgasms that had them both seeing stars and cursing quite fluently, the thief cleaned up after them, straightened him up so to speak, and then left him handcuffed there with the promise that if his team won nationals he'd dropped in on him again.

Talk about giving him something to look forward to.

Cause payback was going to be a bitch.

)

Okay, so each dream will be from Arthur or Eames's perspective, suggestions are welcome as to situations/characters/storylines you'd like to see them end up in.


	2. Boy Wonder

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all characters in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks so much for reading, hope you review and let me know what you think!

Note: Some liberties taken in terms of Dark Knight characters for the dream, A plausible Blake/Bane dream would take a lot longer than a chapter lol.

Boy Wonder

Doing his best not to so much as look in Eames's direction unless he absolutely had to, Arthur mentally cursed whatever had caused his stupid subconscious to concoct the dream he'd had about the forger the night before. When was his brilliant brain going to comprehend the fact that no good could ever possible come from imagining what it would be like to have sex with the man? Because while it might provide excellent masturbatory material in the short term, in the long term it just served to taunt him with what he couldn't and shouldn't want to have.

Not that he wanted to have the forger, at least not outside the bedroom. Who could blame him for wanting the man in his bed after all?

Damn David Beckham for causing him to develop a taste for ripped, tattooed Brits.

"So what's wrong with you and Eames? Your team won last night." Dom asked as he leaned against Arthur's desk, giving his partner a questioning look. Not that it wasn't unusual for the two to be at odds, but this was different somehow. The two were both putting way too much effort into keeping out of the other's way instead of insulting and sniping at each other as per usual.

"I'm far too busy to list all the things that are wrong with Eames." Arthur informed the older man frostily, pissed that his behavior was pronounced enough for Dom to have noticed. "And I'm fine, just a little tired."

Not quite sure he believed that but willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt Dom patted Arthur on the shoulder. "In that case cut out a little early today. There's a theatre two blocks from where we are that is having a Christopher Nolan marathon for the next couple of days. You like his stuff, right? Go watch a movie and relax a little, turn in early. It will do you good."

In theory it sounded like a good idea but Arthur doubted it would work. How was he supposed to relax when he was faced with the biggest job of his career, one that threatened to blow up in their faces so bad that it was quite conceivable that none of them would come out of it in one piece if everything didn't go according to plan? And with untrained members, a seemingly impossible goal, AND Mal's interference on top of that…

Not even mind-blowingly good sex could relax him at this point. Probably.

And Arthur really, really hated the fact that his eyes automatically darted in Eames's direction before he turned his attention to Dom, telling the man what he wanted to hear before turning his attention back to his laptop, determined to lose himself in his work and forget all about the fact that his formerly dormant sex drive was letting its presence known and demanding that he find out if Eames was as good in bed as his dreams had always suggested.

)

Arthur's Dream

He was a part of the shadows around him, a phantom of sorts. He'd become skilled at such things when his city had been taken over and hunting season had been declared on anyone who carried a badge or dared to stand up against the criminals who'd controlled their lives. Since then he'd honed those skills to such a degree that sometimes he wondered if the engulfing darkness that lived within him hadn't turned him into an actual shadow of the man he still pretended to be when he wasn't wearing a mask.

The thought had him reaching up to press his fingers to the mask he currently wore, attached to his flesh with an adhesive that would last well until the next night unless exposed to a specific solution. He couldn't risk it coming off before he was good and ready after all.

And there was a very good chance that the man who lived in the apartment he had come to visit would try at some point to remove the mask. Reporters had more curiosity than most after all, and Tom Eames had been trying to get his hands on him for months now.

The transplanted Brit had come to Gotham fascinated by the infamous Batman and curiosity over Robin, the new caped vigilante protecting the city's streets. And if Mr. Eames was to be believed the interest wasn't just professional, but personal as well.

Thanks to a couple of gossipy cops who'd overheard him talking with Commissioner Gordon after he'd rescued his former boss from thugs, everyone now knew that not only was 'Robin' single, but gay as well. The press had had a fucking field day over that.

Like anyone in his situation could have anything resembling a regular relationship with someone, Robin thought darkly as he left the shadows and deftly picked the lock to the door that would lead from the apartment's roof to the residences within. It wasn't like he could tell a lover what he did at night, and the last guy he'd dated had become convinced he was either a hooker or involved in criminal activity.

That had not been a fun night.

Hopefully tonight would be a major improvement, especially since this would essentially kill three birds with one stone. Though he should probably not think of it that way since he was known as a bird, Robin silently acknowledged with the faintest of smile.

The first bird was the fact that it had been four months, three weeks, and two days since he'd had sex with someone else and he needed it so bad he could taste it. The second was that Mr. Eames would probably stop stalking him whenever he got the chance if he gave in and slept with the man. And last, but certainly not least, he'd get over the slight interest he had in the reporter at the same time since he was sure to find that he'd built the man up to a huge degree in his mind and the brief encounter would be as unremarkable as any of the other men he'd slept with.

Part of it was probably his bad taste in men, the rest the fact that there was something lacking in him that prevented him from connecting with anyone beyond the superficial.

On his good days he liked to believe that something was just plain common sense.

But regardless he'd promised Lucius that he wouldn't go hunting tonight to give his shoulder a chance to heal more, and rolling around naked with the sexy Brit had sounded like the best possible alternative.

So without any hesitation he made his way to the reporter's apartment, breaking in with ease as the locks in such places were utter crap. Closing the door behind him Robin paused, allowing his senses to take over as he stood in the dark hallway. And hearing the sound of running water the man smiled and then followed his ears, taking in the general layout of the place as he went in case he had to make a hasty exit.

The bedroom door was open and he went in, setting his jacket on the unmade bed's post before walking towards the door that was partially open and connected the bedroom to the bathroom. Reaching out he pushed the door open and leaned in the doorway.

"You said to drop in anytime so I have. Don't bother getting dressed on my account, Mr. Eames, I'll be wait for you in the bedroom."

As he turned to head back to the bed Robin heard the shower curtain being yanked open but didn't bother to glance behind him. Instead he sat down on the bed and calmly removed his shoes and socks, having just enough time to stretch out on the wrinkled covers before his night's 'prey' came stumbling into the room with a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist and a plunger in his hand.

"Holy…it really is you."

Amused by the shock on the usually so charming and unflappable man's face Robin would have poked fun except for the fact that he was too busy looking over the reporter's ripped and heavily tattooed body.

Licking his lips, Robin let his interest show on his face as he beckoned the man over with a crook of his finger. "Come here and I'll show you how real I am."

As he watched Eames did move closer, letting his makeshift weapon drop to the floor before coming over to a stop beside the bed, towering over him as his intelligent blue-grey eyes studied him with a mixture of desire and trepidation. "I've been chasing after you for months now, Darling. What's changed?"

"I took a knife in the shoulder two days ago and I gave my word to take it easy until tomorrow. As you know I don't normally get nights off." Not about the lie Robin reached out and yanked off the man's towel before Eames could stop him, wrapping his fingers around the growing erection it revealed in a firm grip. "As I understand it you've been wanting the opportunity to 'shag' my brains out for a while now, well here's your chance, limited time offer."

"Well when you put it that way, Darling, how can I possibly refuse?"

)

Letting go Robin waited until the man had gotten on the bed too before he reached down to carefully pull the tight, long sleeved shirt he was wearing up and over his head, revealing both his bare chest and the bandages covering the spot where the knife had been driven in. Unlike Eames his body wasn't decorated with tattoos, but with scars he seemed to pick up with alarming regularity these days. There were some bruises too, he noted now, looking back up to see what Eames thought of the skin he was now showing.

"Is this the worst of it then?" The Brit inquired as he touched fingers lightly around the bandage before gently brushing against the discolored skin.

"Why don't you finish what I started and find out?"

Making a small sound of approval when the man's hands moved to undo his pants Robin eagerly lifted his hips when they were undone so that the article of clothing could be dispatched with. He hadn't bothered to wear anything underneath either, the less he could accidentally leave behind the better.

Watching Eames look him over Robin couldn't help but frown over the fact that the man seemed more interested in looking for possible injuries than he was in the fact that he had a naked man on his bed who'd come with the expressed purpose of having sex with him. If it weren't for the fact that he could see it wasn't so he'd think the man's interest was purely medical. Was he literally going to have to lead the man around by his cock in order to get laid here?

Fine then.

Reaching out he grabbed the hand nearest him and yanked the reporter down on top of him, ignoring the pain that caused as he moved his grip to the man's head as he held it in place so that he could get his first taste of the full lips that had been haunting his dreams for far too long. That it was even better than he'd imagined thrilled him, spurred him to take and give more as he fit his body to Eames's for the added pleasure of skin to skin contact.

Making a small sound of protest when the other man broke off the kiss far too soon Robin opened his eyes, having not even realized that he'd closed them in the heat of the moment. And what he saw in Eames's eyes had him squirming just a little in eagerness, the heat and desire in them making his own heart pound and ache.

"Put your hands at your sides and leave them there." The husky, now heavily accented voice was downright hypnotic to Robin's ears. "I've waited too long for this to let you rush me."

Allowing his arms to be pulled away and pressed down against the sheets Robin nonetheless wasn't interested in taking it slow, wanting more of the blistering, searing heat they'd generated with their simple meeting of mouths and tongues. He'd never had that before, and like a junkie he craved another fix so bad there was little he wouldn't do for more.

And with that in mind… "I won't last long if we take it slow. It's been a while for me." He wasn't ashamed to admit it either, what he did was more important than sex after all.

"Understood. But keep your hands where they bloody are, Darling."

The endearment got to him as it always did, though he hid it well as he shrugged his shoulders. If the man wanted to take it slow and miss out, well that was his problem, now wasn't it? And then he was being thoroughly kissed again and Robin forgot about everything but kissing Eames back, his fingers fisting in the sheets as the feel of their naked bodies pressed so intimately close while their tongues tangled built up the anticipation to epic proportions.

When the man's lips finally left his Robin could barely lift his eyes, feeling equally sated and ravenous for more. It was such a contradiction, but he felt too good to analyze it.

He closed his eyes again as he felt the man's lips start to work their way down his chest, Eames's body rubbing up against his as he did so. And then his legs were being lifted off the bed and onto the broad shoulders he'd so admired, Robin's eyes snapping open once more as he had a millisecond to process what was to come before that mouth he'd been fantasizing about for months descended to take his straining erection between those pouty lips.

"Son of a-!" Words dying on a whimper of need Robin couldn't stop his hips from bucking under the sudden waves of pleasure radiating through his body as he was sucked off with a skill that had his eyes threatening to roll back in his head. He wasn't used to selflessness from a lover, and he'd never been that big on blow jobs, but apparently he'd just been dating the wrong sort of men and had seriously been missing out.

His toes were curling for Christ's sake!

It felt so good and hit his system so hard Robin didn't even realize how close he was to coming until he was minutes later, shouting out his pleasure as he went taunt and then all but melted into the bed with his mind wiped clear of everything but how amazing it was to feel nothing but happy for a change.

Eventually he became aware of the fact that his legs were once again on the mattress, Eames between them as he watched him with a smile on his face that brought to mind the phrase 'the cat that got the canary'. Or in this case the robin.

As he watched Eames leaned forward on one hand and traced the mask that hid almost half his face with the other. "I don't suppose you'd let me take this off?"

Taken aback when he realized his first instinct was to say that the man could do whatever he wanted with him, Robin forced back those words and threw out ones that didn't make him feel like a complete idiot with a massive crush. "It would take a better orgasm than that to get me to consider that, Mr. Eames."

Chuckling, Eames's eyes gleamed with challenge and amusement. "I see. And just Eames, Darling, no Mr."

Nodding in silent agreement Robin watched as his favorite reporter shifted over to jerk open the bedside table, anticipation flowing through him once more when the lube and condoms came into view. Yes, yes he definitely wanted to get up close and personal with those items too.

Picking up on his eagerness Eames tossed one of the condoms in his direction. "You open that and I'll open something far more fun."

Wholeheartedly agreeing with that plan the condom was freed from its packaging in record time while Eames coated his fingers with lube, Robin opening his legs wide to accommodate when it was time for the other man to 'open' him up for what was to come. And when that first finger found its way inside of him, prepping him for the next and the next…well he was never so happy that he'd caught the attention of a nosey criminal reporter.

By the time Eames' fingers had stretched him out enough Robin was more than ready for him, sitting up as soon as the fingers were withdrawn so that he could steal more kisses while his fingers sheathed the man's sizable erection with the condom, stroking it thoroughly so that he would get the most out of it.

Chuckling as opposed to complaining when Eames's fingers encircled his wrists to pull his hands away Robin lay back down on the bed, allowing Eames to direct his arms down so that they were back in their original position. If Eames wanted to do all the work he wasn't about to argue, Robin decided, wrapping his legs around Eames' waist to make it that much clearer as to what he wanted.

Though depending on how things went in the next few minutes he might just stick around for a second go so that he could make a more hands on study of all those tattoos.

And then Eames was oh so slowly working his erection inside of him and Robin forgot all about anything but trying to take as much of the man in as possible, as quickly as possible. That he could see that Eames was deliberately going slow just to drive him crazy made it that much worse, especially with the shallow thrusting he was getting once Eames was all the way inside of him. Something perilously close to begging got him deep, drawn out strokes, but it wasn't enough and no matter how much he bucked and arched he couldn't get enough.

This led to some creative cursing on Robin's part as he told the other man exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it. And he made it perfectly clear that if he wasn't being fucked within an inch of his life ASAP he was going to be pissed enough that there would never be even the possibility of a repeat.

"Well excuse me for being gentle, Darling. You were recently stabbed as you recall, and you aren't the Man of Steel."

"Damn right I'm not. I wouldn't be caught dead in that costume. Now FUCK ME OR ELSE!"

Rather than answer Eames simply continued to draw it out until he apparently couldn't stand it either, only then giving into the need to take what Robin was offering with fast, penetrating thrusts that had them both cursing and straining for more until they both got what they wanted with climaxes that guaranteed that they'd be doing it all over again as soon as they had the strength to do so.


	3. I'm King

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all characters in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks so much for reading, hope you review and let me know what you think!

To Hidden Star for the suggestion!

I'm King

Despite the fact that it was scalding hot Eames gulped down his coffee like it was water, desperate for the caffeine hit. Thanks to sleep deprivation his brain was hardly working, and what was still working was too busy drooling over the dream from the night before to do him any good at the moment. Why oh why had he decided to take Dom's advice and go to the theater after work? If only he'd stayed away he would have never realized what a perfect 'Robin' Arthur would make, thus avoiding the dream he was sure was going to haunt him for a while to come. He'd loved Batman as a kid and now…if this ruined the series for him there was going to be hell to pay.

The image of Arthur wearing nothing but that sexy black mask was etched on his brain like acid now, Eames silently bemoaned as he opened the bakery bag that contained the sugary treat he'd also purchased to console himself with.

So of course, just to spite him, he had to catch sight of his 'Robin' as he brought his cinnamon bun up to his lips.

With the sticky treat pressed against his lips Eames froze, staring across the street to where Arthur was sitting at another sidewalk café, his laptop out and his fingers dancing across the keys the way they did. There was an empty plate and cup pushed to the side, neatly stacked and waiting for someone to remove them. Not a hair on the man's head was out of place, the clothes perfectly ironed and tailored to his lean, lightly muscled body.

In the latest dream Arthur had been a bit bulkier, but he actually preferred the reality better.

How long he stood there like a dumb prat he couldn't say, but then suddenly Arthur looked up and in his direction, their eyes meeting across the street that separated them.

Eyes widening at the quick bolt of heat that shot through him as their eyes made that connection Eames wondered if he was the only one who felt it, or if Arthur was feeling as he was feeling. They were too far apart for him to read Arthur's expression, and you had to be close to ever see anything Arthur didn't want you to see in the first place.

And realizing that he was standing there with a cinnamon bun pressed against his lips while he stared like a complete and utter moron Eames bit into the treat and raised his other hand in what he hoped looked like a casual greeting, the other man returning it. If Arthur asked him about it later he'd just say he hadn't been a hundred percent sure it was him at first. Arthur knew he wasn't a morning person.

Just like he knew that Arthur wasn't a morning person, though the other man didn't have the same problems waking up as he did, the forger silently added before reminding himself that no good ever came from thinking about just how well he and Arthur knew each other by now.

Yup, definitely time to head for the warehouse while using the walk there to clear his head some more ASAP.

)

Eames's Dream

Sitting back on his throne Eames was in a terrible mood. Despite the festive atmosphere around him it was all he could do to maintain an ambivalent face as he did his best to hide the fact that he wanted to stride across the room, throw his lover over his shoulder, and then spend the rest of the night insuring that his knight remembered who he belonged to. The fact that he couldn't, even though he was a king, had him biting back curse words that would have had him spending quite a while in confession later.

He spent enough time there as it was thanks to Arthur.

Why couldn't his competition be male though? Why did it have to be a mere slip of a girl, one new to his court and therefore not nearly corrupted enough to lose Arthur's interest? Lord Dartmouth's daughter was indeed causing quite a stir among the men, many seeing her as a possible wife due to her family's social standing and wealth.

And Arthur wasn't married.

Was his lover seeking a wife?

The mere idea was painful, to a degree that he knew there was very little he wouldn't do to prevent such a thing from ever happening. And yet how could he deny Arthur the right to do as he wished? Even though he was king and his lover a knight, Arthur had never bowed to his wishes unless it suited him to do so, the younger man far too stubborn for his own good.

That that was one of the reasons his heart belonged to the knight was to say the least vexing.

He'd been married for a time, his lineage and place upon the throne demanding that sacrifice from him when he was still a young lad. His wife had given him two children before she'd passed away from sweating sickness that had killed too many in his court over the years. Therefore he couldn't lecture Arthur about marrying a woman for her name and ability to give him a heir when he had done precisely that when he was nearly half his lover's present age.

But he was the king, dammit. He ruled this country and ruled it well. He'd worked hard all his life to be the best damn king he had it in him to be and from where he sat it sure as hell wasn't too much to ask to have his beloved love him back enough to forsake all others to be with him. To choose him and only him.

Because if Arthur took vows he would keep them. If Arthur married they would be lovers no more.

Even as the pain of that thought registered Eames watched as the girl he was coming to hate slipped an arm into Arthur's and the two started to move together through the crowd, appearing to head towards the doors that would lead out of the Great Hall.

Unable to let them out of his sight Eames got to his feet as well, trusting that he wouldn't be missed and that if something royal had to be dealt with one of his sisters could handle it. They were no one's fools after all and often meaner than he was.

Taking the royal exit out he quickly made his way down the hallway, waving off the bodyguards who would have followed him. He wanted no audience and he was more than capable of looking after himself. In the mood he was in he could take on the devil himself.

Just managing to catch up in time Eames kept his voice clear and calm as he called out his knight's name, deliberately making it sound official instead of a jealous lover's fury.

"Yes, My King?"

"I wish to speak to you about something important in my personal chambers."'

Arthur gave one of his perfect bows that wasn't remotely subservient but gave the illusion of being so. "I will see Lady Ariadne to her rooms and then report to your chambers immediately, Your Majesty."

Obviously not wanting to cause him trouble the girl in question withdrew her arm from Arthur's, dipping a low curtsy to her king before speaking to Arthur. "I can get back on my own, the king needs you."

"I gave your father my word I would see you safely to your rooms. It's not so urgent that you cannot permit me to see her to her chambers, is it?"

Barely managing to school his features, especially since he knew in his bones that Arthur knew exactly when he'd chased him down, Eames forced himself to give his lover leave to see the girl to her rooms before coming to him, turning on his heels and strolling off before he said or did something he would regret.

)

Heading straight to his personal chambers Eames kicked everyone out and removed all of his clothing save his trousers, leaving the formal attire on the floor. As it was he wanted to fling them into the fireplace just for the pleasure of destroying something, but he hated getting fitted for new clothes and Arthur liked that vest in particular, which was why he'd worn it in the first place.

And how sad and pathetic was he, a king who bent over backwards to try and please a mere knight?

Stomping over to stand in front of his huge fireplace Eames rested one arm against the cool stone while he stared into the flames as though they held the answers to the question of how he could force his reality to his will.

He was still pondering that question without any luck when he heard his bedroom door being opened, knowing who his visitor must be since only Arthur would dare to enter without announcing himself first.

"You can be more a fool than your jesters at times, you know that?"

Stiffening in insult Eames slowly turned to face his knight, his eyes hot with barely banked fury as he silently let his wrath be felt.

"You were obvious. Were it not for the innocence of her mind the lady would have known your reason for chasing us down." Appearing completely calm Arthur walked over to stand in front of his king, reaching up to stroke his fingers across Eames's cheeks and stubble. "Acting like a boy who's had his favorite toy stolen away. It's a wonder you didn't stick your tongue out at her when I said I would come to you."

"My tongue has better things to do." Was his snarled response as he grabbed his lover and yanked Arthur up against his chest, his lips hard and bruising as they clashed with his knight's. It was meant to be possessive and punishing, a warning not to dare push him any further least he lose what control he still had.

But Arthur didn't push or fight him off, simply relaxing into the kiss so that it quickly lost its bite, which was probably exactly why he did it. They both knew who was physically stronger, but it went without saying that Arthur was far more cunning when it came to getting what he wanted. And wanting to know if he was being manipulated or not Eames drew back, framing Arthur's face between his hands as he stared into his lover's eyes, needing to see himself reflected in them.

Reaching up Arthur placed his hands over Eames's. "What cause have I given you to doubt me, hmm? Were I not in fine spirits I would take offense, I think."

He wanted to rant about how much time Arthur had been spending with the Dartmouth chit but no matter how he thought to word it Eames knew he would sound like a whiney, needy child. So he didn't say anything, silently willing Arthur to just let him off the hook.

"Really." Shaking his head Arthur was obviously amused by him. "Have I not told you oft enough that so long as I alone share your bed you alone will share mine? You have no call to be jealous, you have no rival in mine eyes, I swear it."

"Then why do you seek her company of late?"

"Her eyes are on Dominic. I'm trying to intervene for her sake, though as yet I have had little luck." Curiosity came into Arthur's eyes. "You know I desire not women, why would you think she would interest me? You think I would marry her to appease others or for her money?"

"For a heir."

"Ah. As you had to. I see. Nay, My Love, I will never wed, not even to gain a heir. The children of my sisters and brothers can fight for my lands and titles when I am dead and buried. Your children are not of my blood, but they are of yours. For that alone I would love them as if they were mine. The three of you are all I need or want."

Seeing the truth in his lover's eyes Eames pulled him close for the most loving of kisses, so happy that he didn't know how his mortal body could contain it all. Of course he would probably still get jealous, his lover was far too appealing for his own good, but for now he believed with all his heart that Arthur was his and that was worth more than all the gold in his coffers.

And wanting to express that love physically Eames started herding the other man towards the bed as he sought to undo the man's clothing, not pleased when Arthur broke off the passionate kiss they'd been sharing.

"I brought you a present. It's over there on the table." Arthur informed him, a knowing little smile on his face. "Go and fetch it and I'll dispatch with the rest of my garments."

Knowing how obsessed was about his clothing Eames rolled his eyes but turned the man loose, heading in the direction of the table Arthur had pointed to. "You know, you're supposed to fetch things for me, not the other way around, Darling."

"You're my lover when we're alone, not my king."

Turning Eames watched in silence as Arthur undressed, not contradicting the other man's statement because it was true and exactly what he wanted. He wanted Arthur to always want him as a man, not as a king he had to bow and cater to.

He watched until the man was mostly naked before returning to his task, eyes widening when he saw what Arthur had silently set there before confronting him. Reaching out he picked up the small, simple pot, grasping the dipper and lifting it up to watch the honey drop back down into its container.

Oh yes, he loved this man.

Eager to use his gift Eames headed towards the bed and Arthur, the younger man reclining naked on his bed with hooded eyes that watched him closely as he climbed up onto the bed and straddle his lover, leaning forward to deliberately dribble some honey over Arthur's lips.

When Arthur's reaction was to lick it off with a playful gleam in his eyes Eames mock scolded him and then repeated the gesture, pleased when this time the other man relented and let him lick every drop of the honey from his lips and chin where it had dripped down.

Wanting more honey to lap up Eames had the dipper posed over Arthur's lips again when the man's hand came up, fingers encircling his wrist. And as he watched Arthur brought the dipper closer to his mouth and then used his tongue to lick and suck off the dipper, holding his gaze the entire time while he made the little sounds in the back of his throat that he knew drove him crazy.

And unable to look away Eames felt bewitched, helpless to move until Arthur's finished his teasing task and let his wrist go, sensually stretching underneath him with a 'make me just as eager for you' look that was a definite invitation for more. He wasn't about to leave the man waiting either, Eames thought wickedly, swirling the dipper around the pot and then pulling it out to drizzle the honey over Arthur's bare torso, making sure to save plenty as he had plans for it later.

Arthur wasn't the only one who knew how to tease after all.

Setting the pot aside when he'd covered Arthur's front sufficiently Eames then turned his attention to licking and sucking up every drop of the honey, loving the way it combined with the taste of his lover's heated skin while the other man shuddered and moaned softly beneath him, urging him on.

Once he's licked up all the honey from his lover's chest and belly as slowly as he could manage given his own hunger, Eames nuzzled his face against the taunt stomach beneath him one last time before licking his lips in enjoyment as he looked up the length of Arthur's body.

Knowing he had the other man's complete and total attention Eames lapped up the honey that had slide down the muscled vee that framed Arthur's already leaking erection, deliberately adding the extra sensation of his stubble against Arthur's skin. Loving the softness of the man's inner thighs and the proof of how much he was desired, Eames could have lapped at the sweet flesh for hours even without the honey. But there was still more to taste and he was as eager to claim his lover as Arthur was to be claimed.

"Roll over."

Eames felt the shudder that went through Arthur's body, thrilled both by that betraying tremble and the fact that the man did as he asked, rolling over and onto his stomach without a moment's hesitation. Picking up the honey pot again Eames applied the honey up and down Arthur's spine before setting it aside once more, loving the fact that Arthur was already panting and squirming in anticipation.

Because they both knew how sensitive Arthur was there, and how much Eames liked to exploit that fact.

Rather than lick up the honey this time Eames leaned forward, placed his lips against the top of his lover's spine, and sucked the liquid up, Arthur's body jerking beneath him as he suckled there for a moment and then moved down, leaving little bits of honey here and there as he steadily made his way down Arthur's incredibly sensitive spine, the younger man gasping and begging for more without a hint of his normal reserve or control.

Impatient too, Arthur rolling back over and onto his stomach, reaching out to pull him into his arms as he wrapped his legs around his waist, grinding himself up against his erection while he desperately mashed their lips together in wet, open mouthed kisses that signaled how close he already was to his limit.

Cupping his lover's arse in his hands Eames grounded their hips and erections together that much harder, making no effort to slow things down as he drew back just long enough to ask Arthur what he wanted.

All Arthur wanted, he was told, was him.

So that was precisely what he got.


	4. One Chance

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks and enjoy.

Note: Harry Potter universe dream next chapter heh.

One Chance

Sitting back in his chair Arthur tuned everyone else out as he turned his thoughts from work to something that was bugging him about two dreams he'd had recently. Technically it wasn't unusual for him to dream about having sex with Eames, he was only human after all, but the dream he'd had the night before, and the cat burglar dream before that, were decidedly odd. Odd because it had been like he was watching the dream from the outside, able to somehow hear Eames's thoughts while being a part of himself when he entered the dream so to speak. It was like he was almost both of them, and yet he had no control of the 'Dream Eames'. He'd never had a normal dream where he couldn't control all aspects of it, his training just that good and imbedded so completely within his consciousness.

Perhaps he really was working too hard, like Dom said. This wasn't like any other job they'd ever taken after all. And he'd been working at his laptop pretty much non stop when he wasn't eating or unconscious and that wasn't good.

Decision made Arthur got to his feet and when Ariadne gave him a question look he informed her that he was going for a short walk to clear his head.

Not looking in Eames's direction, which was going to become mandatory if he kept dreaming of the man the way he was, Arthur let himself out of the warehouse and started walking, no particular destination in mind.

He hadn't gone all that far before he heard the sounds of voices, recognizing the fact that he was hearing an Eastern Europe dialect but too far away to distinguish which one. But the tone and sounds that accompanied those darkly excited voices had him following his ears, coming around a building to see five men in their mid-twenties in a semi-circle, their prey backed up against a filthy wall, cringing in fear.

From the looks of the older man he was one of the city's homeless, some forgotten misfit who probably sought shelter in the empty warehouses or between the buildings. The man's attackers were another story, healthy and decently dressed, their choices in fashion making as much a statement as their intended victim's. Gang members perhaps, their shaved heads, love of leather-

All thoughts wiped from Arthur's mind as the man closest to him turned to face him fully, revealing the insignia that had been stitched onto his jacket's pocket.

A symbol that guarantee a reaction out of anyone with his bloodlines.

The swastika.

Eyes narrowing Arthur didn't even think about getting on his phone and calling for reinforcement or trying to run away. Oh no, he thought as they started towards him, he had no intention of asking for any help as they turned all their attention to him as their previous prey made a run for it. They probably thought that his clothes meant he'd have money, a watch worth stealing, and not a chance in hell against all of them.

They were about to find out how wrong they were.

Though it was pity he was going to get his suit dirty.

Waiting until one broke away from the pack to confront him first, Arthur didn't bother to talk or give any warning as to what they were dealing with. Why would he? Instead he lashed out with a hard kick to the man's knee, following it with a punishing blow from his right that took the bastard out of the fight for the foreseeable future.

The other four he was going to have to share, Arthur realized as he heard his name being called even as the other punks converged on him together, stepping into the fray knowing that Eames would momentarily be joining the fight.

He knew he could trust the man to cover his back, and actually…it was sorta nice that the man would jump into the thick of things with him, Arthur thought as Eames did precisely that.

Maybe his suit wouldn't get ruined this way.

)

Arthur's Dream

He lay still and silent, his eyes closed as he feigned sleep and did his level best to ignore the man sleeping so close to him that he could feel the Englishman's every breath on his face. They were sharing a blanket, hence the tight quarters, but Arthur felt so warm he could have done without it despite the frigid night air that blew through the heavily damaged structure around them. He could hear bombs being dropped a short distance away if he paid attention, but he left that to those currently on watch. Perhaps that would be the death of him, but they'd suffered serious casualties during the day and for the moment be wanted nothing more than to concentrate all his attention on the face he could just make out thanks to the moonlight spilling through various holes and cracks by their heads.

Eames wasn't a part of his unit, they'd come across the downed British pilot three weeks ago. He'd been with them ever since, the plan being that he'd rejoin his country's soldiers as soon as they ran into some. Thus far they'd been pretty much stuck where they were, fighting with the Germans over the same small stretch of land, said land mostly rubble now as a result.

The crush he had on the charming, easygoing airman mortified and haunted him, the power of it shocking him to his very core. That Eames was completely unaware of his feelings was the only thing that made his situation bearable, his private weight and shame to bear.

And only hours before a sniper had nearly gotten the other man; his heart had stopped when he'd spotted the hint of movement in a supposedly empty warehouse window. The bastard had gotten three of them before they'd gotten him, a bullet shaving Eames's helmet seconds before that.

He needed to touch him, Arthur thought desperately, hating his need even as it consumed him like never before as his fear fed it. He'd almost lost the man, lost his chance. He had to touch. Had to know what it was like.

And though he called himself every kind of fool, even as he told himself that Eames would likely shoot him were he to wake up and realize what had happened, Arthur couldn't help but reach out one shaking hand and ever so slightly stroked his fingers over the man's hair, letting out the shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Eames didn't stir.

Of course they'd been run ragged the last couple weeks, the man was probably so exhausted it would take serious effort to rouse him now. Eames was still recovering from wounds he'd received in his crash as well, the small town hadn't had a doctor so the wounds had been tended by unskilled hands. Eames never complained about his injuries and their situation, but he had to be hurting and pushed even more to his limit than the rest of them.

Which made it unequivocally wrong to take advantage, but his mind had sent the signal to his fingers regardless, knowing that this would perhaps be his only opportunity to touch the man freely without having to worry about his reasons being correctly deduced. So he allowed his fingers to trace the surprisingly strong jaw, loving the feel of the stubble as it rasped against the sensitive pads of his fingertips. But it was Eames's mouth that had been haunting him for weeks, and moments later they were there, his fingers tracing those large, lush lips over and over against, sliding his finger over the bottom lip, wishing desperately that he dared to lean forward, close the gap, and press his lips to the other man's mouth.

That was a line he refused to cross though, and self preservation had him dropping his hand away, setting it down on his own thigh under the thin blanket, determined to keep it there.

But even as he thought that he felt his wrist being grasped, Arthur just managing to muffle his gasp of surprise as his hand was pulled up and out from under the covers, to be brought up towards Eames face. And then he felt those lips press against the center of his palm in a kiss, his usually overactive mind frying at the intimate gesture. And then his hand was being moved to cup Eames's cheek, the other man's hand splaying over his to keep it there.

"E...Eames?"

"Hmm?"

The way the man almost purred the inquiry sound had Arthur's stomach clenching in a painfully pleasurable way that had him swallowing hard and struggling to get himself under control. "Are you…awake?"

A low, husky chuckle was his answer before Eames spoke in a voice that was clear and not edged with sleep. "I've been a soldier quite a while longer than you, Arthur. I know how to sleep while being very aware, not to mention we're out of pain killers and my bloody side doesn't allow me to sleep comfortably for long anyway."

Which meant that Eames had likely been aware of every action he'd made in the last few minutes, and despite what he sometimes said to the contrary he knew the Englishman was far too intelligent to misinterpret his brief caresses. The kiss on his palm though, and the holding his hand against his cheek now…was he being teased or…or invited to continue the intimacy? He'd never considered…the man had flirted shamelessly with the females of the town that had rescued him when they'd turned out to see them off.

"Speechless, Darling? Unusual for you."

Too lost in his fears, hopes and cynicism to speak, Arthur remained silent, mind unable to formulate a best course of action.

He was still lost in his thoughts when Eames's hand left his own to grasp the back of his head, Arthur barely having time to jerk in surprise before his lips were forcefully being pressed up against Eames's and he was being kissed with a passion that had color flooding his cheeks as he automatically opened his mouth to ask why, not getting a chance as the other man's tongue took advantage of the action.

And that was all it took, Arthur making a low, keening sound in the back of his throat before he threw everything he had to give into the kiss, his own tongue coming out to slip and slide over Eames as they shifted closer so that they were chest to chest, both immediately picking up on the growing bulges they could feel pressing up against the other's as the kissing seemed to go on and on, lips parting briefly for a single breath before hungrily returning for more, unable to break away for longer than that.

Both bolstered by the other's reactions their hands soon found their way under the blanket covering them to slide under stiff, dirty uniforms to touch skin, ignoring the cool air that nipped at the exposed flesh as they warmed it with their own. Arthur was careful to avoid touching the man's injured side, stroking his hand up and down Eames's spine as he tried to convey all that he wanted to say with his body since they couldn't chance being overheard even if they could stop kissing.

The sound of someone tossing in their sleep nearby had them both flinching, drawing back ever so slightly as they froze, brutally reminded in that moment that they were far from alone in the draft, damaged room. The rest of the unit was spread out throughout the room, many close enough to overhear.

"Shit." Eames shifted to bury his head against the side of Arthur's neck, his words strained and broken. "Fuck we've gotta stop, Darling. I want to shag you more than I want to live to see sunrise, but fuck…fuck we can't do this here and now."

"I…I want you that badly too."

)

Both men went silent, knowing there was nothing they could do. They couldn't go off somewhere on their own, they'd draw attention or risk being picked off by the enemy because they'd left the safety of their unit. A war zone didn't provide its victims with safe places where you could let your guard down. Hell, Arthur could hardly remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed.

And the odds that sometime in the future they'd get their chance to do more than kiss in the dark were so bad that not even Eames would bet on them, Arthur thought as he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Either death or Eames returning to his own regiment would separate them before long, and even if they somehow both survived this hell…they didn't even live in the same countries.

Hating that thought as much as he hated the war they were fighting Arthur grinched his teeth against the need to bitch and complain and…and let the whole damn fucking world know how much he hated the fact that they were right there, both willing, and unable to do anything about it because they were surrounded by other guys and even if they were there was no way Eames would be able-oh.

The thought that popped into his head had the wheels greased and turning before Arthur's common sense could kick in, offering him a solution if he was willing to risk everything for one chance, for one time with the man who still held him so close to him. It would involve stepping so far out of his own comfort zone that even his brilliant mind boggled, and it would take every bit of control he had, but if he truly wanted this…he could have it if Eames was willing.

It took all his courage to shift up on one elbow, placing his lips against the shell of Eames's ear. "I want you badly enough to risk it."

Feeling the man's reaction Arthur did a little shudder of his own as Eames whispered back to him in a voice harsh with desire, pointing out that even if they didn't have the company he wouldn't be able to take him without hurting him.

Rather than respond Arthur drew back and turned around to rest on his other side, reaching out to carefully undo one of the side pockets on his pack. Withdrawing the small bottle he'd wrapped up in a pair of socks Arthur quickly stuffed the pieces of clothing back in the pack and then rolled back over so that he was once again facing Eames, feeling around with his free hand until he located one of Eames, pressing the bottle of oil into the man's palm.

"I came across it a little over a week ago in an abandoned house." Arthur whispered quietly, praying silently in his head that they would have this chance. "I figured I was going to toss myself raw thinking about you if I didn't have something to ease the friction, so I grabbed it. If we switch positions I can act as lookout."

Spurned by his sudden rush of stupidity based bravo Arthur didn't wait for a yes or no, gently reaching out to push Eames on his back and then nimbly getting on his own hands and knees to carefully move over the man, grateful when the Brit shifted over so they'd switched places.

Head whirling from his brain numbing audacity Arthur stretched out on his side with his back to Eames, his hands sliding under the covers as he pushed down the lower half of his uniform to reveal his ass, not hard to do given the weight he'd lost recently. And then he waited, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he put the final choice in Eames hands.

The sound of the bottle's lid being undone making him quiver, Arthur forced himself to keep one hand over his mouth just in case while his eyes scanned the area for movement or unwanted attention, biting down on the flesh of his palm as Eames gradually worked his fingers inside of him, the pleasure/pain of it only increased by the sounds and words he could make out as Eames did his best to muffle his own reactions against his shoulder.

The fact that they didn't dare draw this out had Eames's fingers coming out as soon as possible, Arthur fighting the urge to tell Eames to take him hard and fast, knowing there'd be hell to pay if he couldn't walk properly tomorrow.

And then Eames's erection was sliding inside of him and Arthur had to use every ounce of control war had hammered into him as he fought back the need to react to the flames flashing over his nerve endings at the pain and underlying pleasure that started to overshadow the former as Eames started to move inside of him in gentle, perfect strokes.

But even lost in sensations as he was Arthur didn't miss the movement of the soldier closest to him minutes later, hissing for Eames to stop moving just as Dom abruptly sat up, Arthur just able to make out the soldier in the dim light, the man's face pale and drawn.

Unable not to mentally curse his friend to hell and back for the interruption Arthur bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Aware in every fiber of his being that Eames was deep inside of him, stretching and filling him, just waiting for the chance to move inside of him once more so that they could both find the completion they'd been so close to obtaining was maddening.

Then finally Dom settled back into his bedding, his back now to them as he went back to sleep.

With a hand that trembled Arthur patted the hand on his thigh, slapping his other hand over his mouth again as Eames immediately started thrusting again, the pace frantic and even more desperate than before.

"Fuck but I can't last, Darling."

Even as he opened his mouth to respond to the harsh whisper Arthur felt the other man's hand leave his hip to slide around to take his erection firmly in hand, pumping his fist up and down in time to the thrusts that had Arthur seeing stars and wanting to scream in pleasure when Eames hit just the right spot.

Arching his neck when Eames buried his face against it Arthur smiled at the low groan that escaped the man's lips as he came, feeling his ass being filled as Eames's hips bucked a couple more times before going still as he shuddered and lost himself in his release.

He didn't have to wait long before Eames's hand started moving again, his mind flooded with images as Eames whispered in his ear, telling him just how much he still wanted him, what he intended to do with and to him once the war was over and they could find themselves a big bed and all the time in the world to use it.

The words, combined with the accent that could turn him into mush in seconds, sent him over the edge as much as Eames's touch, the world they were in disappearing so that there was only them, together, in those moments of pleasure and connection.


	5. Wicked Wizards

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks and enjoy.

To Guest and Nineteen Twentyone for the HP suggestions, and the latter also for the star-crossed lovers suggestion, both which are featured here!

Wicked Wizards

Sitting back in the lawn chair while he and the rest waited for Cobb and Saito to finish their little discussion, Eames struggled not to look in Arthur's direction, the compulsion so great he couldn't resist. The man was as impeccably dressed as always, the faint bruising along his jawline the only visible reminder of the fight they'd been in the day before. Not that it had been much of a fight, the punks not remotely trained and therefore no match for the two of them. That hadn't stopped him from chewing the other man out for not calling for help of course, not that Arthur had listened. And okay, the man probably could have taken them all, Arthur was a downright deadly opponent when properly motivated, but the thought of the man being truly injured in the real world scared the hell out of him. He'd never stopped to think about what a prime target Arthur would seem in bad neighborhoods, the sort that lived in such places having no idea what they'd be getting into picking a fight with him.

You'd never think, after all, that the three piece suit wearing man who was currently reading 'Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets' like it was the most naturally thing in the world for him to be doing could ever be a threat.

But he couldn't really be amused by his darling's choice in literature as he currently couldn't look at the man without recalling the dream he'd had about him the night before.

And dear God was that going to be his go to material for tossing from now on, Eames silently moaned to himself, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his mind recalled every second of that dream in perfect detail. It had been a lot like one of his all-time favorite love scenes in film, 'Enemy At The Gates', which had probably inspired certain aspects of the dream to begin with and just further cemented the memories in his mind. He'd never cared what anyone else said about that scene, it was so great because it was so real. When it really mattered, when you couldn't count on having tomorrow, all the little things like dirt, clothes, and setting didn't mean shit when you had love.

Which made him wonder if Arthur had ever been in love. The man was notoriously private about his personal life, and the only time he'd ever seen the man hit on anyone was while on the job. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure what team the man played for. Arthur didn't mind and was good at hitting on both genders. And while he'd gotten the feeling a few times that maybe the man was interested in him…well that could just be wishful thinking on his part.

Now more than ever.

"So, Arthur, you like Harry Potter?"

Eames watched the man nod in response to the question. When Ariadne asked him the question too Eames grinned, pleased to say that yes, he too had a fondness for the Boy Who Lived as well. He had even joined Pottermore when he was a kid and had been sorted into Gryffindor.

"Figures."

Intrigued by Arthur's tone of voice Eames grinned at the point man. "Assuming you joined it too, as any serious fan would and did, I'm guessing you got sorted into Ravenclaw, Mr. Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."

Arthur's lips twitched for a second, but the man schooled his features quickly. "You'd guess wrong then, no surprise."

"Ah, so you thought it too childish to join…." Another idea occurring to him Eames all but purred as he realized what other house would suit Arthur given the man's cunning, arrogance, and resourcefulness in getting the results he wanted. "Are you a Slytherin, then, Darling?"

The faintest quirking of his lips was Arthur's confirmation.

)

Eames's Dream

Walking down the deserted hallway, his steps echoing against the stone walls, Eames absently rubbed a hand over his face as he wished for sleep desperately. And although his rounds were now over and he could turn in for the night the wizard held little hope that he would sleep well once he arrived at his rooms. He had not slept well for nearly two months now, missing always the body he was so used to sleeping beside every night. But he had neither slept with nor seen his lover since Salazar had announced that he was leaving Hogwarts forever and that he expected every member of his family to leave with him, including Arthur, the man's youngest and his lover.

Of course very few people knew the truth about his relationship with Arthur, most thought they were just very close friends the way their fathers had once been. But the truth was that they had insisted on rooming together when they'd become teachers at the school so that they could share a bed and their lives in the most intimate of ways without drawing unwanted attention.

If not for his mother Arthur wouldn't have left, but she was not well at present and her youngest was her favorite. For her Arthur had left him with promises to return once she'd recovered or he managed to talk some sense into his father.

And every moment that passed without his lover at his side Eames because more and more aware of how little patience he actually possessed.

Spotting something shiny on the stone floor, the torches reflecting off of it, Eames walked over and leaned down to pick it up, turning it over in his hand as he studied the round piece of metal, some sort of coin perhaps, though unlike any he'd ever-

Eyes widening Eames instinctively looked down as he felt something slide up his leg, wrapping its coils around his calf before slowly starting to climb its way higher up. Muttering under his breath as he started walking again Eames was not pleased, especially since there was no way to remove the bloody thing without removing his clothing, and he sure as hell wasn't going to do that in one of the school's hallways. It must be one of Arthur's pets, thinking to play with him. They mostly lived in the forest but they entered the castle when it suited them, drawn to the Slytherins who could both understand and speak to them.

Gasping when he felt the snake reach his thigh Eames stumbled, only barely catching himself as he felt the snake's head slide between his legs to rub up against his manhood, stimulating the base and adding flickers of its tongue for good measure.

Moaning low in his throat, he couldn't help it, Eames braced a hand on the wall as he struggled for control, embarrassed as hell to feel his body reacting to the reptile's maneuvering. It was only because it had been so long since he'd known Arthur's touch, he told himself, even as he bit down on his bottom lip as more stimulation was applied. And not wanting it to continue, it was just wrong after all, Eames said to hell with modesty and quickly undid his belt, let it drop to the floor before reaching under his clothing to grasp the snake close to its exploring head, giving it a firm yank as he ordered it to turn him loose in the hisses of Parseltongue Arthur had taught him.

Docile, the snake uncoiled and allowed itself to be pulled out so that Eames could get his first look at the creature, entirely black and about the length of his own arm were he to stretch it out. He didn't recognize it, but the way it watched him seemed to suggest it felt no fear of him.

"Bad, snake, bad."

Even as the words left Eames mouth the snake's form seemed to blur before his eyes, so that one moment he was holding a snake by its throat…and the next his fingers were awkwardly spread over a pale, human throat that he'd often touched and tasted over the years.

"And here you so often complain I'm not bad enough." The man murmured before moving in to press his lips against Eames's, taking full advantage of the fact that Eames's mouth had dropped open in surprised shock.

Dropping his hand from the man's throat Eames immediately wrapped one arm around his lover's waist while the other hand cupped the back of Arthur's head, eagerly deepening the kiss as it registered who was before him as the taste and feel of his man sank into his very bones, warming him from the inside out.

)

Pulling away reluctantly after he'd gotten a good enough taste to confirm that it really was Arthur Eames stared at the man, torn between jubilation that he was there and curiosity about how he'd managed to turn himself into one of his serpents. But the fact that he finally had the man back in his arms overwhelmed everything else so that he immediately went back to kissing the hell out of his lover, only pulling away when he felt the man's hand slide between them to take him in hand so to speak. That had his full attention, especially since his thoughts weren't yet so addled that he wasn't aware they were in plain sight of anyone who might care to walk by.

"Silly man, thinking I'd let anyone or anything touch you so intimately." Arthur murmured as he turned his head to place a strong of kisses along his jawline. "I thought I'd made it clear by now what I'd do to you if you allowed yourself to be touched here by anyone but me." He gave a firm squeeze for emphasis, smiling at the groan that escaped Eames lips. "Tell me you missed me."

"I'll show you how much I missed you." Eames countered, his voice husky with strained promise, trying not to think about how much better it would be to just take the man up against the wall beside them. "When we get to our rooms. Come." Taking the man's free hand in his Eames tugged on it.

But Arthur didn't move, and in fact dropped his other hand to his side. "If you missed me then why did you not write to me?"

"Of course I wrote to you, I must have written you-you were the one who didn't-oh hell."

Both men shared a look as they came to the same conclusion. They didn't lie to each other, and even if they were to try they'd known each other since they were babes playing and sleeping side by side while their parents visited. They'd written each other and neither had gotten the letters. Their parents must be intercepting their correspondence, not difficult when you considered how much power each held in their respective territories.

"Well that explains a lot." Arthur's hand pressed to his side for a moment before looking up to meet Eames's gaze. "I should have confronted you sooner, come to see you myself. There was an incident a little while ago, I would guess the nature of your letters to me precipitated it. He's had me watched by my brothers and his pets since."

Since a number of his letters had revolved around what he was going to do to his lover once he got his hands on him again Eames could only imagine how Salazar Slytherin had reacted. And that hand that had gone to his side… "Did he hurt you?"

The sound of dismissal Arthur made confirmed that fact even as he was drawn into another kiss to no doubt distract him. But he was not about to be distracted, he knew the Slytherin patriarch could be as cold blooded as one of his snakes when crossed, and the old man would see their relationship both as a sin because they were men, and a betrayal as he was a Gryffindor.

But he knew better that to defame the man's character around his son. Family loyalty was everything to the Slytherin family. So instead, when they drew back, he simply reached out to stroke Arthur's cheek as gently as possible. "Well I'm glad you decided to come see me."

A look of guilt crossed the Slytherin's face for a moment.

"What?"

"I…I didn't actually come to see you. I really had thought…you're as loyal to your family as I am to mine and I thought perhaps, for them…I didn't intend to approach you until I saw you in the halls, how pale and exhausted you looked. You've lost weight and you looked miserable and…and so I had to come to you, I couldn't stop myself. But I came here looking for the chamber my father threatening you all with when we left here. The Chamber of Secrets."

"We looked for it, we all searched the castle from top to bottom. It was an empty threat, my love, though I'm glad it brought you back to me. I think I'd have gone insane if I had to wait much longer to see you. Touch. Taste you."

Pulling Arthur back up against his chest Eames kissed the man with everything he had, growling low in his throat in pleasure when he felt Arthur melt into him without any resistance, surrendering himself completely.

When they broke apart this time they were in perfect agreement that they needed to get back to their rooms as soon as possible.

Hastily getting his clothes back in order Eames took Arthur's hand and they both ran for it like they were young boys once more, sharing knowing little grins as they competed as always to see who could go faster while they both refused to let go of the hand they held.

)

Arriving at their destination they started shedding clothing as soon as the door closed behind them, hands moving desperately over each other as they stumbled towards the simple bed they'd once shared. Falling back onto it they rolled across the thin blankets with abandon, not caring about anything but the other. The passionate embraces and caresses stopped though when Eames caught Arthur's brief look of pain, drawing his attention to where he'd just touched.

And there, where Arthur had touched earlier, someone had literally branded him with the Slytherin family coat of arms, the flesh still painfully red and startling against the paleness of the man's skin.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill him for this."

"No." Arthur's hands dug into his shoulders, restraining him. "You won't. Because he's my father and because I love him even when he does things that make him undeserving of that love. I will not have you bloody your hands for me."

Eames's gaze was fierce as he framed Arthur's face between his hands, his need to punish and protect as strong as his guilt for not being there to protect his lover when he needed it. "There is no one I'd be more willing to bloody my hands for."

"And I am the same. But right now bloodshed is not what I need from you or you from me. What we need, all we need, is each other. So love me, Eames. Take the pain away. Only you can."

Reining his temper in, which took some doing, Eames forced himself to nod and then leaned forward to press his lips against Arthur's once more, changing the whole mood over their joining as he sipped there like he was a bee gathering nectar at a flower, so gentle and careful as he tasted the sweetness of that which gave him life.

Moaning in utter submission Arthur simply held on and cradled Eames close while he gave and gave, knowing there would always be more to give where this man was concerned. Knowing that Eames would give back just as much with equal love and devotion.

"Stay with me." Eames whispered against Arthur's lips before raising his head to meet his lover's gaze.

"Till morning. But I'll be back." Arthur told him, in a voice that broke no argument, obviously seeing the protests he wished to make. "And I will see that you get my letters even if I have to tie them to the leg of my sister's owl and send them to you that way."

"That might actually work."

"We will see. Now get out the oil and open me for you. It's been far too long."

Not wanting to fight and knowing he would not win anyway Eames did as bidded, thinking that at the very least he could spend the night making love to his lover so that he would be too exhausted to leave him until he absolutely had to.

And watching Arthur's face as his fingers pleasured him Eames licked his lips and demanded that the other man admit how much he wanted him, tell him what he wanted him to do.

A knowing look coming into his eyes Arthur nodded and then began to speak not in words Eames could understand, but in the language of snakes.

They'd discovered when they were boys, after Arthur lost a bet that required him to speak of his sexual desires for him out loud, that he found the sound of Parseltongue to be incredibly erotic and guaranteed to get him as hard as a bloody mountain every time. Arthur found it amusing but stimulating too, and therefore indulged him often for their shared benefit.

And when he'd replaced his fingers with his manhood, diving deep inside his lover until nothing was between them and they were fully joined, Eames made the sounds he'd practiced again and again over the years so that he could tell Arthur that he loved him in the language of snakes, the language of his lover's family.

Eyes going soft as they always did at such times, Arthur smiled at him. "I love you too." He replied in English, drawing Eames's head down for a slow, loving kiss as their bodies fell and rose together in perfect rhythm, made for the other without a doubt.


	6. Package Delivered

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all characters in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks so much for reading, hope you review and let me know what you think!

Note: Changes made to 'Premium Rush' in order to use Joseph Gordon Levitt's character but this chapter does contain movie spoilers. Unfortunately there is no sex scene between him and Tom Hardy in the movie…though I'd have blown my bank account going back again and again to see it so that's probably for the best lol.

Package Delivered

Sipping from his water glass Arthur pretended to idly study the restaurant they were in. It was safer and less irritating than paying attention to the other members of his team. A team that should never have been formed, least of all to attempt to pull off the stupidest job Dom had ever gotten them into. And that was saying something since Mal's death. Her interference was subtly at the moment, but it wouldn't stay that way. Dom's subconscious knew when it was best to strike and how.

Not that Dom was letting that on, playing at being as cool a customer as the man who'd hired them and was currently buying them lunch.

Eyes flickering over to Saito Arthur wondered not for the first time how the man could think this would actually work. Because even if they did somehow manage to control Mal and their target, they were bringing in newbies who were as green as he, Dom, and Eames were seasoned. That couldn't possibly end well.

Watching a look of recognition come into the older man's eyes Arthur shifted his gaze to see who had caught Saito's attention, a chill running down his own spine as he recognize the woman coming towards them, her gaze saying that she recognized him as well.

Shit.

"Mr. Saito, what a delight to see you. And you as well, Wilee, it's been too long."

Feeling everyone's eyes turn in his direction Arthur nodded his head in greeting, knowing better than to try and convince her she had the wrong man. "Sister Chen. I'm surprised you remember me, seeing as we only met that one time."

"Ah, but you are not someone easily forgotten." Was her response, lips curving into a feline smile. "The infamous Wilee Coyote, the best bike messenger in all of New York. One who suffered torture and multiple broken bones in order to deliver to me a ticket that would allow your friend to bring her family to America with only seconds to spare. I must say I'm surprised to see you in a suit looking so businesslike though. Too many injuries, perhaps?"

"You were a bike messenger?" Eames repeated, disbelief in his voice.

"Once upon a time."

"Perhaps you could join us, Madame Chen, and tell us all about it." Saito's eyes lit within with interest. "Arthur isn't much for conversing about his past."

Arthur understood his employer's interest, the man couldn't control and anticipate an opponent whose past and weaknesses were a mystery to him. Which was why he was pleased when she regretfully declined with an explanation that she was in fact keeping someone waiting as it was. But she said something to Saito in Chinese with a serious look in her eyes, and Arthur's instincts said that it was important before she bid them good bye and then left.

"She said to be careful of you, because you're a man with no breaking point." Eames murmured to him.

Looking up and meeting his gaze, feeling the hard shock of connection and chemistry zinging through his system, Arthur tried to tell himself it was his imagination even as he saw that the forger felt it too.

"Arthur…you were tortured…for real?" Ariadne's voice was small and horrified.

He'd told her what Mal was capable of doing, subtly trying to scare her off the job, but apparently that kind of torture wasn't actually 'real'. Dom had gotten to her good. "I had multiple cracks in my ribs when Monday got ahold of me. They weren't hard to finish breaking with a little pressure put on them."

While Ariadne gaped at him in horror Eames spoke.

"The bastard pay for what he did?"

The forger's tone of voice was protective and dangerous, Arthur feeling heat curl in his belly as he nodded. Normally he hated when people acted like he needed to be protected from anything or anyone, but somehow it was okay that it was Eames. Like when he'd jumped into the fight before. His dreams were messing with his head, making him feel like the forger had the right to protect him. Like they were a couple.

Which made the dreams he'd been having more dangerous to him than he'd previously thought, but Arthur knew better than to think he wouldn't savor every one of them until his consciousness opted to end the X-rated dreams.

They were too addicting for him to resist.

Though it was truly a sad state of affairs when you're over experimented on mind generated this many sex dreams to compensate for a current dry spell, Arthur thought as he sipped from his water, wishing it was something stronger.

)

Arthur's Dream

After securing his bike and covering it up with a tarp Arthur headed up the stone steps and into the building, taking off his helmet and biking gloves as he went. Once inside he headed straight for the elevator, knowing precisely where to go with most of the regulars recognizing him on sight and therefore making no comments about the fact that he was a biker surrounded by suits. He'd collected and delivered plenty of packages in the building, which was how he'd met the guy he'd come to see.

To his right he could hear two women whispering about him, the one explaining who the hottie was. As always the name Wilee surprised the other until it was explained to be a nickname, his given name unknown to everyone which was how it would stay since he'd been blessed with a mother who'd thought it such a great idea to name him after a fictitious, doomed king. Like any kid wanted to be saddled with the name Arthur. Other bikers had started calling him Wilee in high school because according to them he was a guy with a death wish who constantly put himself into situations that should have technically gotten him killed. He was a master at narrowly escaping serious harm or death, not to mention constantly chasing after the need for speed, aka the Roadrunner.

So in conclusion he'd rather be known as Wilee, even though they were only right about its suitability to a point.

Getting off on the correct floor Arthur headed down the hallway, smiling when he got the go ahead to head straight in from his lover's secretary. Letting himself in he immediately hung up his helmet, bag and rain soaked coat on the coat hanger, retrieving three items from his bag and sliding them into his pockets before heading towards the main desk where his man sat, talking on the phone while giving him a wide grin that said he was pleased to see him.

Giving his man a look that indicated he was going to be very pleased shortly Arthur walked around the desk and pulling out the items he'd retrieved earlier, dropping the lube and two packaged condoms on the paper scattered desk that proved Eames was not what he'd call a neat person.

And sure he had the man's complete attention Arthur reached down and undid his shorts, letting them fall to the ground in a heap before stepping out of them. The rain had soaked them after all, and they hadn't been comfortable, Arthur thought with a knowing little smile, loving the way he was being watched as he quietly slipped onto the man's lap, pressing his lips against Eames's throat in greeting.

"Hold on a minute, Mac." Eames lifted the phone from his ear and then pressed a hand over it to muffle him, his voice shifting to a far more intimate tone. "I'll be with you in ten, Darling. Behave till then."

Of course the subtle warning was slightly ruined by the free hand that was stroking his ass, but that was Eames for you, Arthur mused with a grin as he nuzzled his face against his man's neck. And while his man went back to his call like nothing was going on Eames's hand continued to stroke over his skin, leaving his ass for the moment to slide under his T-shirt to his spine, which was just fine with him.

Loving the touch Arthur would have normally just waited the call out, mostly behaving until then for Eames's sake, but unfortunately he had a very narrow window of opportunity today as the week long bad weather had driven a lot of his competition indoors, both because of the hazards it posed and because a lot of them had caught colds as a result. He had to take advantage of that while he could.

And he just plain loved taking advantage of his man, period.

The idea of doing his level best to make Eames lose his cool on the phone appealed, but he didn't know who his lover was talking to and wouldn't risk getting his man in trouble with his bosses. And since they were pressed for time…foreplay was just going to have to wait until tonight.

Retrieving the lubricant from the desk Arthur coated his fingers, knowing Eames was watching his every move as the older man barely paid any attention to the conversation he was having. Shifting up so that he was resting on the pads of his feet on either side of the chair, one hand braced on the chair's arm for balance, Arthur reached behind him with the other so that he could start working himself open, deliberately resting his forehead against Eames's shoulders since he knew if he could see the man's reaction to what he was doing he wouldn't be able to keep his own reactions under control.

But he could feel his man shudder under him, the slight change in the British accent that aroused him so quickly and easily. And then Eames' hand slid back down to his ass, a finger stroking alongside his own, making it clear he wanted to join the preparation. Nodding so that Eames would know it was okay Arthur shuddered as Eames' finger joined his, their fingers opening and stretching him together in ways that had him softly saying Eames' name in spite of himself.

That was enough for his lover. "All right, then, Mac, I think we've hashed this out enough for now. Give me a call later if you need to. I've gotta go. Bye."

)

As soon as the phone was off Eames tossed it onto his desk and with his now free hand latched onto the back of Arthur's head and drew it up so that he could kiss the hell out of him, his desire apparent in how quickly he got his tongue into the action as they made out like desperate teenagers on the chair that groaned under their combined weight.

Drawing back when he felt his ability to stop himself from tearing Eames's clothes off wane dangerously, Arthur just grinned at the sound of annoyance Eames made, understanding the sentiment completely. But there was something that needed to be taken care of given the size of the erection he could feel pressed up against his body. Twisting around so that he could grab one of the condoms Arthur set it down on the chair's handle and then went to work opening Eames's trousers, not surprised that the man was commando since he'd watched him dress that morning. "Wouldn't want to get your suit dirty."

"Put it on me, Luv."

"That was my plan." Opening the packet Arthur did precisely that, making a sound of pleasure when Eames did the same for him, his lover deliberately stroking him just the way he liked to make him that much harder.

And as much as they both craved more skin to skin contact it was too dangerous to completely strip down, especially since it would be a lot easier to put their clothes to rights if they kept what they had on in case someone came knocking. So instead they simply shoved Eames's trousers down to his knees and then turned their attention to making that body to body contact elsewhere.

Leaning back in his chair Eames watched him with predatory need as he used more lube to insure that there wouldn't be any problem, and then rising up while grasping Eames's erection Arthur slowly lowered his body back down on it, eyes closing with pleasure as he worked his lover inside of him while Eames's fingers dug into his hips and groaned with him.

"Open your eyes and look at me, Darling."

Forcing his lids open Arthur smiled a little, wrapping his fingers around the chair's arms as he used them to lift him a little up, his muscles flexing taunt for a moment before he loosened them and deliberately impaled himself to the hilt.

Cursed out in rough, broken Brit for being a bloody impatient tease Arthur just laughed and then moaned as Eames took control, his hands moving him up and down as he was taken so hard and fast he couldn't breathe and didn't care.

Giving himself over to the sensations and not wanting to embarrass himself by coming too quickly Arthur reached down between them with one hand and stroked his fingers over his man's balls in between thrusts.

"Fuck, Darling!"

"I'm a courier, Darling. I know how to take care of packages."

"Mine only." Eames growled back possessively.

"You want me to only handle yours, huh? Well then make me yours, Mr. Eames." Arthur shot back with challenge in his darkened eyes, the look in them one he'd always worn when faced with a difficult run or stunt. "Take me."

And take him Eames did, riding him so hard and thoroughly that Arthur would think later with a grin that had he been a bike, he'd have totally been shredded. But that suited him just fine, especially since he knew that that guaranteed that his lover would spend the coming night making slow, slow love to him because Eames knew he had to be able to handle riding his bike tomorrow.

Which okay, was going to be a slight problem from now until dinner, but he could ride without his ass on the seat easily enough. This had been worth it. So worth it.

All but purring with contentment as Eames slid his hands up and down his back in a soothing motion, Arthur was tempted to nod off right then and there, he felt that sated and comfortable. It was strange, scary, and…good that he could feel so complete after years of sharp, broken edges.

"So was this your way of apologizing for having to stand me up for tonight because Raj talked you into working late again? Because if it is…it worked."

Chuckling, Arthur raised head and lazily met Eames's gaze, wondering if the man realized what it said about their relationship that he rarely canceled on their plans together. "No, I'll be there. I just needed the adrenaline fix, and you're always so handy." He added with a definite purr to his voice. "I've had to take it way too easy the last couple of days, gotta stay on my game and all that."

"And yet you come to me bruised." Eames resorted, removing one hand from under Arthur's shirt so that he could grasp Arthur's wrist and bring the arm up to eye level. The bruising wasn't bad all things considering, and nothing compared to the scar tissue above it, where he'd made contact with a taxi eight months ago.

Trust his lover to have noticed even in the throes, Arthur thought to himself. The man rarely missed anything. "Fucking taxi cut me off."

"They hate you as much as you all hate them, don't they." Eames murmured, tracing the scars with his fingers, as he'd done countless times before.

"I wouldn't hate them if they stayed out of my way." Though he probably would, the hatred so ingrained by now. "And you'd think they'd appreciate that I don't break their side mirrors off the way V used to." At least not as often as she had, anyway.

Arthur could see in the quick flicker of emotion in his lover's eyes that Eames didn't appreciate him mentioning Vanessa. He'd turned down the man's flirting because he was with V when they'd first met, and he'd only returned the interest three months ago when he and his former girlfriend finally split for good. Sometimes he got the impression that Eames feared he was the rebound relationship and that he wasn't as invested as he knew the Englishman to be in this thing between them.

He'd never been good at the emotion thing though. He didn't know how to say what he felt without it coming out awkward and forced, Arthur silently cursed as he leaned in for a simple kiss before drawing back with a smile as he teased. "So provided I don't end up sick or needing stitches, we're still on for dinner at your place, right? Unless you were hoping this really was my apology for not making it tonight."

"You damn well better be there in one piece or I'm paddling your pretty ass, Darling."

Smirking, Arthur shook his head. "You and calling me darling." The man refused to call him Wilee in petty revenge for the fact that he refused to tell him his actual, given name. He didn't tell anyone that. There were worse names to be saddled with of course but-

A light going off in his mind Arthur sighed even as he acknowledged the fact that his brilliant brain had just provided him with a way to convey to Eames how special he was to him without him actually having to say the words. It would be embarrassing, and come back to bite him on the ass…but he didn't want Eames to stop biting his ass because he thought they weren't a real couple.

"Arthur."

"Come again?"

"It's Arthur. My name. And if you call me that in front of anyone I'll be using my chain to-"

Arthur didn't get a chance to finish his threat, his mouth occupied as Eames made it clear he understood him perfectly.

Thank God.


	7. Utter Torture

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters get in.

Note: His name is Eames and he's British…I couldn't resist.

Utter Torture

Eames waited until the others were occupied elsewhere before he sided up to Ariadne, praying they wouldn't be interrupted before he managed to ask her a couple questions. Especially since she and Arthur were the only ones he could ask who wouldn't tip off Yusuf right away, and that so wasn't happening, Eames thought with a mental grimace. Because if Yusuf didn't have an explanation he'd want to turn him into even more of a lab rat than he already was, and that was so not happening either.

"Ariadne, got a sec?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"This might seem like an odd question, but I was wondering if your regular dreams, ones that have nothing to do with the job, have changed in any way. Become more…vivid. Easier to remember, like they actually happened and aren't dreams at all."

Absently chewing on her bottom lip Ariadne thought about it and then shook her head. "Not really. The parts I remember are weirder, and usually connected to what we're doing, but I wouldn't say much else has changed. Should they be different?"

"No…mine have just been off a little and I was wondering if maybe it wasn't just me." That it wasn't was somewhat worrisome. "Oh well, it's probably nothing, or I've just been affected by Yusuf's bloody experiments more than the rest of you lot."

"He has been experimenting a-Oh! Eames, maybe you shouldn't be talking to me, but Arthur instead. Remember, Yusuf gave you and him that special dose that was supposed to help your dream connections? You guys said it didn't noticeably change anything, but maybe it did affect your usual dreams. I mean you'd think that the others would have said something by now if their dreams had changed, but Arthur so private, he probably wouldn't unless he thought he had to."

Huh. He'd forgotten all about that little experiment. Was that why he was dreaming only of Arthur lately? Because if it was then it stood to reason…that Arthur was dreaming about him just as often.

"That is a good line to tug on, thanks. He's a wee bit peeved at me at the moment but once I'm back in his good graces, or as good as I ever am, I'll ask him about it."

Shooting the breeze with her for a few more minutes just to be safe, Eames excused himself after he was sure she didn't suspect anything was up. Wandering back over to his chair he retook his seat, stretching out his legs as he turned his gaze to Arthur, studying the man closely as he steepled his fingers in front of him, the tips touching his lips.

Could Arthur be dreaming of him? There had been something…something far more tangible between them recently. And if he thought back to when the dreams had first started, they did coincide with Yusuf injecting him and Arthur both with that dream connecting stuff. Coincidences were hooey.

But how was he supposed to ask Arthur about it? He couldn't just go up to the man and ask Arthur if he'd been dreaming about him recently. Arthur would either laugh in his face or deliver a put down that would have his ego limping for days.

Maybe if he laid it all out Arthur would at least listen to him, but if he was wrong that would explode in his face in truly epic, mentally damaging ways.

And were they both simple dreaming of the other, or were they actually sharing the same dreams? Because while the latter shouldn't be possible he wouldn't have thought it possible for Yusuf's experimenting to alter their regular dreams either without them being hooked up. But he was also very much aware that every other dream he'd had recently had seemed to revolve around the man and his psyche, showing windows into Arthur's mind in subtle but pointed ways. He had never had dreams like the ones lately and he wasn't about to rule anything out at this point.

So there had to be a way to subtly glean information somehow, finesse the information from Arthur without the other man realizing what he was up to.

Pondering the possibilities for a good ten minutes Eames finally came up with three points which he could possibly use thanks to the dream from the night before. Of all the dreams he'd had recently involving the man that was the only one with strong roots in their actual lives. If the dream was a shared one and Arthur had held any sway over it than it stood to reason that certain facts revealed in that dream were true.

The first point would be the easiest, learning the truth about the scars on Arthur's arm. He'd seen them before last night's dream but Arthur had ignored his previous queries as to how he'd gotten them. In the dream they'd been because of a taxi, so he'd get Ariadne to ask for him and see if that was correct.

Secondly, there was the girlfriend, this V for Vanessa person. If he could confirm that Arthur had dated a woman by that name while he was a messenger then that would be another nail in the coffin so to speak.

Last would be the hair thing. In the dream Arthur's hair had been cut brutally short and completely at odds with his present style. He would have never imagined the point man with hair like that, he knew how picky Arthur was about his perfectly styled hair after all. The man had once broken his nose in two places because he'd deliberately tousled it, unaware of the bad day Arthur had been having at that point. But that hair would be suited for someone who was constantly wearing a bike helmet and had no time to fuss over that sort of thing.

So his goal was to confirm those three things before he confronted the man and laid out his suspicions.

Glad to have a course of action Eames got off the chair once more and strolled over to see what Yusuf and Dom were up to.

)

Eames's Dream

The security of the building was the best it could be, but he knew it far too well to be hampered by it. Getting into his target's residence posed no difficulties and knowing the layout Eames didn't have to turn on any lights to reengage the alarms just in case before making his way down the hallways until he reached the door that would lead into the man's bedroom. He'd arranged to have a little something extra added to the man's usual glass of whiskey before bed but he entered carefully as the individual lying still in his bed was not someone he took lightly.

But when he moved in close, body tensed to defend, he got no reaction. Which meant Mr. Arthur Blake was out for the count given he was a light sleeper who'd been too well trained to be snuck up on, even in sleep. Testing the man's pulse and finding it steady Eames quickly went to work, turning on the bedside lamp before removing the bedcovers so that the man's body was on display. In no time at all he'd stripped him of his simple black tee and pajama bottoms, both articles of clothing ending up draped over a nearby chair. After that he carefully chose two ties from the man's huge collection and used one silky strip of cloth to bind the man's hands above his head so that they were tied to the headboard there, the other used as a blindfold to keep the man in the dark once his eyes opened.

That done he sat on the side of the bed, removed his own shoes and socks, and then simply waited, knowing the man's nightly routine well to predict that it wouldn't be long before the effects of the drug wore off given the incredibly small dose he'd given him.

And as predicted he didn't have long to wait.

No noise, just a sudden tensing of the body, a sense that the mind that had been sleeping was now engaged and accessing his predicament in seconds.

Not about to keep the man in suspense either Eames leaned over and lightly slid his thumb over the man's pale cheek. "Hello, there, Sleeping Beauty."

"Prince Charming I think you are not…so care to explain before I kill you?"

"Well it's quite simple really, Darling. You have information I want and I've come to get it from you. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but struggling or calling for help will get you nowhere and you know it. You also know what I want to hear, so what will it be, Mr. Blake?"

He didn't have to wait long.

"You can shove your request and your ridiculous nicknames up your ass."

"Yeah, I thought that would be your response. So the hard way it is."

While a man in his profession had to become use to doling out punishment and pain, that had never been his thing. If given a choice he was a lover, not a fighter. He had always preferred to seduce the information he wanted out of marks rather than harm them. Unless they deserved to have the information beaten or tortured out of them. He had standards after all. But he'd been trained well by the people he worked for, and years of experience had made him very, very good when it came to using his body against any opponent he might encounter.

It had been months since he'd gone this route to give information though, his circumstances demanding the change, but he didn't expect to be rusty, especially given the fact that not only had he studied the public history of the man lying still as stone in front of him, but his every preference when it came to his most private secrets and desires.

And he would use that mercilessly against him.

)

With all the stealth and quietness of a trained predator Eames moved closer to his prey, not at all surprised when he had to use both of his arms to block well aimed kicks, the glancing blows stinging up his arms but simply aroused him more. He loved a fighter. And he was better trained and far more determined, holding the man's legs down until he could place his bent ones on top of them, pinning them there so that his hands were once again free.

That accomplished he leaned forward on his hands to nibble teasingly on the man's lips, not surprised that when he finally pressed their lips together the man not only refused to give his tongue entry but tried to bite him, repeatedly.

Since he didn't want his tongue damaged Eames let his quarry have his way for the moment, turning his attention to kissing his way along the man's jaw and down his neck before ruthlessly nibbling and sucking hard on each of the man's ears in turn, knowing they were one of the man's biggest erogenous areas.

Oh yes, that had his stubborn darling shuddering under him, those his lips remain resolutely closed.

Good thing he loved a challenge.

So he worked his way down the man's pale chest, using his mouth and tongue to bring the nipples receiving his attention to a red, painful erection that had the other man panting under him but still remaining rigid in his control over his body.

Though a certain part of the man's anatomy was very rigid and getting harder by the second from what he could feel pressed up against him, Eames thought wickedly as he slid further down his target's body. That was something the tough Mr. Blake couldn't control.

Replacing his legs with his hands Eames forced the other man's legs to spread out further for him and then lowered his head to deliberately rub the stubble covering his cheeks against the soft, sensitive inner thighs that clenched and quivered against him, ruthless control being exerted over them. Control he was going to snap like a toothpick.

First he used his mouth and tongue to go down on the stubborn darling, applying all his skill and focus to the task until the body under his own began to betray its master completely, seeking out more pleasure and contact with every stroke, small, bitten off cries escaping those resolute lips that refused as yet to part fully for him. But he was making noise and getting louder by the second.

Far from discouraged Eames brought the man as close to orgasm as he dared before withdrawing his mouth, waiting patiently while his fingers stroked the pale thighs that twitched in agitated need. But the words didn't come so he simply withdrew the tube he had put into his pocket, in no rush as he coated his fingers thoroughly with the lubricant even though the man's response to no longer being held down was to wrap his legs around his waist, squeezing painfully.

And though the legs stayed where they were once Eames started to use his fingers to penetrate and pleasure him again, it didn't take long before Mr. Blake was bowing back in pleasure, obviously trying to fuck himself on the fingers without much success since Eames was determined to keep him on edge until he got what he wanted from him.

Obviously getting that the American cursed him fluently in several languages, making it clear in tone how desperate he was getting as he was once again brought achingly close to climax only to have Eames withdraw his fingers completely.

"ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, YOU BRITISH BASTARD! I LOVE YOU, OKAY? I LOVE YOU!"

The man's words washing over him like the most intimate of caresses Eames smiled and quickly undid his own trousers and then retrieved the condom packet from his pocket. Sheathing himself Eames grabbed the man's legs and jacked them up to his shoulders, leaning forward to pull the tie down from the man's eyes while his other positioned his aching erection, sliding inside his lover in one deep thrust as soon as the other man's eyes adapted to the light enough to meet his.

Crushing their lips together in hot, open mouthed kisses as he thrusted hard and deep, Eames grinned when moments later Arthur climaxed quick and hard against him, his body having been well primed for it and more than ready to go over the edge.

And that completed he took his time savoring his lover's loose and willing body, enjoying it to the fullest before allowing his own climax to overtake him.

)

Bracing up on his elbows in order to take some of his weight off the other man once he had the strength to do so, Eames nuzzled his lover's throat, a smug little grin on his face as he enjoyed his victory before turning his attention to the man who was panting under him so seductively. Shifting up further to get a good look at his lover's face Eames wasn't surprised to see Arthur struggle and fail to hide his enjoyment of what they'd just done, his brown eyes still dazed with slumberous pleasure.

"I don't know how or when, 007, but you're going to pay for that."

"I look forward to it, Darling."

"You think that now." Was the younger man's quiet, rather foreboding response. "Now undo my hands or you won't have a future to look forward to."

Knowing Arthur well enough to know he meant it, Eames sighed and then carefully slid out of his man's ass, loving the fact that his lover's body language made it clear he didn't like that one little bit. He liked it even less when he got out of the bed judging by the scowl that crossed Arthur's face.

"With you in a sec, Darling, promise." Taking care of the condom Eames disposed of that and then stripped off his clothes, folding them up since he knew if he didn't Arthur would get up to do it for him, not wanting the pricey suit to be carelessly wrinkled. Once that was dealt with Eames climbed back onto the bed, reaching down to yank the covers back up so that they covered them both before he quickly undid the man's hands, kissing each wrist in turn before letting them go.

Snuggling under the covers Eames smiled as Arthur moved to lay his head on his shoulder, cuddling against his side. Lifting a hand to stroke the sweaty dark hair that clung to his fingers Eames closed his eyes in contentment. "Saw your grandmother today. My good behavior is really starting to worry her."

Arthur chuckled. "Just imagine her reaction if she knew I was the cause."

It was a good thing they'd already shagged, Eames thought to himself, since the thought of what his boss would do if she knew he was sleeping with her favorite grandson had his balls drawing up in fear. The woman hadn't been put in charge of M16 because she was harmless, cookie baking gran. She was ruthless with a capital R.

But from the moment they'd literally run into each other on his way into the office he'd known, deep in his gut, that Arthur was his and damn the consequences.

And as if he knew what he was thinking Arthur poked him in the chest. "I said the words. Your turn."

Raising an eyebrow at the commanding tone of voice, which was just too sexy for words, Eames grinned in spite of his previous dark thoughts, drawn as always by the siren call of Arthur's voice and big brown eyes. "You'll have to torture it out of me." He teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm too tired now to torture you."

"Out of luck then, I'm afraid."

The man's eye color might not be the same as his grandmother's, but the strategic, intelligent, and analytical look that was in them now was the same. Oh yes, his Arthur was just as dangerous as he was, only in another way.

That fact was confirmed when Arthur lifted a hand to slide it suggestively up Eames's chest, a hint of a purr in his voice that promised more sex to come if he was pleased. "Tell me and I'll say it back."

The minx. He knew there wasn't much he wouldn't do, as he'd just made obvious, to get the incredibly private man to admit to his feelings for him. Arthur didn't like exposing himself that way, so his willingness to say it again so soon, well that said something about the fact that he wasn't the only one who needed the words spoken, and not just expressed.

"I love you, Arthur Robin Blake."

A small smile was his reward and then Arthur was placing the hand he'd left on his chest over the heart that beat for him. "I love you too, Bond, Eames Bond."


	8. Cowboy Hat

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the general plot. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Note: XxrockyxX, your RocknRolla request is next chapter!

Cowboy Hat

Sitting in his chair as he waited for Yusuf to turn on the machine Arthur kept his eyes closed, not wanting to talk or even look at anyone. A number of them had already commented on the fact that he'd come in looking sleep deprived and the last thing he wanted to risk was him accidentally blurting out the fact that the reason he'd been up for hours already was because he'd kept having steamy hot dreams involving Eames in the roll of the notorious 007.

Curse you, whoever you are that casted Daniel Craig as James Bond, Arthur mentally fumed. Before that none of the Bonds had remotely done anything for him but Daniel Craig…oh baby but he made Bond actually worth dying for and the movies worth seeing.

That Eames had made an even hotter Bond than Craig was just wrong.

And on that note he felt himself slip into the dream, which unfortunately wouldn't include Eames getting naked with him and screwing his brains out.

Though since they weren't alone that really was for the best, Arthur silently admitted as he opened his eyes and found himself standing on the deserted city road with the others. But thinking about sex made the situation a little less creepy, which he did appreciate.

He'd never mentioned it to anyone, of course he hadn't, but he found empty streets and roads like this eerie, unnerving, and inherently wrong. He knew cities, knew how they pulsed with life and energy, and to be in any city wiped of that made him feel like a soon to be zombie victim from that Will Smith movie 'I Am Legend'.

Which reminded him, he needed to keep a close eye out for Mal.

"What's the grimace for, Darling?"

Trying and failing to ignore the shiver that went up his spine at the mere sound of Eames's voice Arthur could only marvel at how sensitized he'd become to the other man in the last week. His voice, scent, hell, the man's mere presence in a room with him sent his nerve endings on full alert.

"I don't like the fact that we haven't spotted Mal recently. Dom's subconscious could be lulling us into thinking she won't be a problem, or just saving up to make sure that when the times comes this is the biggest FUBAR job we've ever been in."

Eames looked like he wanted to say something but bit it back, obviously rethinking his words before speaking. "If possible you know you can leave her to me. I liked Mal, she was a pistol before-but you three were thick as thieves and physically stopping her would be against your natures. I know you could, that you're that strong…but, Arthur, if I can take the shot let me be the one."

Reining in his own words Arthur forced himself not to lash out, not to take it personally. Because he understood that in Eames's place he'd be making the same offer even though the man was more lethal. "I know you have my back. You always do when I need you to."

And horrified beyond words when he realized what he'd just said and insinuated, Arthur gave the shocked looking Englishman a brisk nod and then hurried over to Dom's side as quickly as he thought he could without it looking like he was running.

It was then he found out that what Dom and Ariadne were discussing was the possibility that they'd pick their mark up in a taxi as opposed to faking a pick up by car since the Fischer family had a driver on staff and their target would become suspicious if it wasn't him. Eames was needed in the back to deal with Fischer if necessary so he couldn't handle that.

A fucking taxi, he silently fumed, wanting to kick one just on principle as old rivalries and instinctive hatred bubbled to the surface. Especially since he was going to be driving the thing from the sounds of it.

It was times like this that he almost wished he'd been born in the Old West when people rode horses and cars hadn't even been invented yet. Horses were way better than taxis.

)

Arthur's Dream

Twilight had blanketed the town by the time he rode in, Arthur feeling every minute of the day like they were invisible weights that would have had him buckling if not for the horse under him, heading home as ordered and more than capable of supporting his weight. It had been the day from hell, the fact that it was coming to a close doing nothing to ease the grief and sadness that shadowed him. A life had ended and other lives had been shattered as a result. Maybe the pieces could be put back together, but they'd never be the same.

Lost in his dark thoughts it took him several moments before he realized that Dreamer had stopped moving, the horse having brought them into not just the stable, but his stall as well.

"Sorry, Boy."

Dismounting with practiced ease Arthur moved on automatic, removing the horse's saddle, bridle, and completing the other necessary chores. Thank God the food and bedding had been taken care of already, he thought as he gave his trusty steed a quick scratch behind the ears, promising treats and attention tomorrow when he had it in him to give it. For now he just wanted, needed a stiff drink and a bed.

A drink that wouldn't be hard to come by seeing as he currently lived above a bar.

He'd moved into the room because he hadn't seen the point in building a house when he was single and living in a dying town that would no doubt be swallowed up by nature before he was ready to be put in the grave. Unless he got shot before then by the unhappy and desperate men that lived or passed through his town, Arthur amended darkly, men on the lookout for easy money and not appreciating the town's only lawman getting in their way.

But this was his town and his people, he wouldn't leave until they did.

Scrubbing his hands over his face Arthur pinched his cheeks to give them a little color before pushing aside the small doors to walk into the only bar still standing in the town of Inception.

It was pretty full considering the small population, men here to drown their sorrows and the women trying to make some money of their own by trying to lure those men to the boarding house next door for a quick tumble. Eames didn't take a cut from that, he just allowed them to work at his place after their former establishment burned down in a suspicious fire four months ago.

Scanning the room for any signs of trouble automatically, Arthur's eyes stopped as they always did on the saloon's owner embroiled in a game of poker with his customers.

Tom Eames was from England originally, the man always happy to tell his tall tales about how he'd started out as a street rat there only to make enough in a card game to secure his passage to America and build his own place.

A rat Eames was not though. Hell, if all rats looked like the Englishman women would actively wish for them to show up in their homes uninvited. And any screaming involved would be of the best kind, Arthur thought with the faintest curling of lips, the scant smile disappearing at the thought of the women who had known the man as he would never know him.

They were friends of sorts and only that.

Pushing aside that depressing thought as he had enough of them, Arthur made himself finish the scan and then started towards the back of the place, answering greetings curtly and shaking his head at the women who gave him come hither looks. He didn't want to talk to anyone and the vibes he was giving off made that clear, Arthur breathing a loud sigh of relief when he finally got up to his room and could close the door to shut everyone and everything else out.

Removing his boots, socks, and gun, Arthur stowed them away before walking across the hardwood floor to his desk, retrieving the bottle of whiskey he kept around for occasions such as this.

Carrying it over to the window he braced his shoulder against the sill as he opened the bottle and then took a hefty swig from it, closing his eyes as he felt the heat of it burn though his system, swirling in his gut to combat the coldness that had been seeping into him since he'd gotten his first look at Mal's broken body that morning.

He'd take another pull from the bottle before the sound of a knock had him glancing towards the door, calling out for whoever it was to enter automatically.

Stomach clenching for a whole new reason when the familiar bulk of his landlord stepped in and closed the door behind him, Arthur cursed the reaction even as he accepted that as always there was nothing he could do about it.

"You went out early this morning." Eames commented as he walked over, hands in his pockets as those intelligent eyes studied him in turn. "Those are Dom's clothes, not yours, so something happened to yours and it was bad. I can see it in on your face."

It was instinct to want to send the man packing, to use his infamously sharp tongue to slice the man to shreds so that Eames would leave him the hell alone until he was more together and calm. But he was too tired, and the concern was genuine. "Mallorie Cobb is dead. She jumped off the gorge near her homestead. She left a note saying she couldn't handle the harsh realities of life and hoped we would all forgive her for her weakness. I helped Dom bring up what was left of her to take to the Doc's."

He was wearing clothes he'd borrowed from Dom because his had been too filthy from the task to ever be worn again.

"Ah hell." Shock and sorrow on his face Eames shook his head, moving in to pull Arthur into a tight hug before he saw it coming. "I'm sorry, Arthur. Bloody sorry. I know you and Dom are mates, and to have to bring her up..."

Allowing himself to sink into the comfort and warmth of the other man's body Arthur wallowed in the luxury for as long as he dared before he forced him to pull away, shoving the bottle of whiskey he held between them. "You should be heading back down, take this with you. If I keep it up here I'll drain it."

"It would help you sleep."

"If I need liquor to get me through a night I don't deserve my star or the faith my town has in me. I'll be fine."

Eames shook his head but accepted the bottle all the same. "It wouldn't kill you to accept that even you need help sometimes."

"It could."

With mutters deliberately pitched to be heard Eames called him every kind of fool and straight laced idiot as he turned and walked towards the door, halting after he'd opened it and stepped through the doorway, as though he'd been struck by a thought and it had made him forget himself.

The man stood there for so long that Arthur was opening his mouth to ask if he was all right when the man's quiet question hit him like a solid punch to his gut.

"Would you be wanting me to send one of the girls up to you?"

Pain and anger entwining inside him to tear his insides to shreds, Arthur didn't think, he just reacted.

Long, powerful strides had him across the room in moments, jerking Eames back into the room with one hand while the other slammed the door shut behind him so hard that it was a wonder it didn't splinter. Then pushing the older man up against it Arthur placed his forearm across Eames's throat, pinning him there as he snarled out his pain.

"You ever make that fucking suggestion again and I'll beat you so black and blue people will think you were trampled in a fucking stampede. You don't ever…not you. You can't say that, offer that. Not you."

"Understood."

)

Shaking with the effort to hold onto what remained of his control Arthur couldn't seem to make his arm move, the limb refusing the listen to his brain. It was like he was frozen, unable to turn Eames loose even though he knew he should. He had no idea what his face or eyes were betraying either, leading him to look down which was his undoing because his gaze landed on the man's slightly parted lips.

Oh those lips. The dreams he'd had, the things he wanted that mouth to do with his, to do to him. So close now. So very, very close.

Moving as little as possible Eames carefully set the bottle he held on a nearby shelf and then quietly spoke the other man's name.

Looking up automatically at the sound of his name Arthur felt all the air leave his lungs at the soft…almost loving look that was in the man's eyes now.

"It's all right, Arthur. It's okay."

And then Arthur felt the man's fingers wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his head towards him, allowing it as his eyes searched for answers in Eames's face, a gasp escaping his lips right before the other man claimed them in a tender, gentle kiss.

Body jerking once in response Arthur's hand moved of their own volition, clutching Eames's broad shoulders strong enough to bruise as he joined the kiss, his desperation ad hunger leaking into the slanting of mouths until Eames was holding him just as tightly, moans slipping out in between as every kiss delved deeper, introducing new secrets and tastes to be discovered and savored to the fullest.

It wasn't until the Englishman's lips turned this attention to his neck that Arthur could think just enough to question why now? Why was Eames doing this now?

That unknown variable had him moving his hands to frame Eames's unsure face between them. "If this is pity, or you're only interested in a one night, you need to leave now and we'll never speak of this again." The thought had his heart clenching painfully, but Arthur's resolve didn't buckle for a moment. "I've wanted you too long to settle for less than all of you."

"Ah, Darling, you have no bloody idea how long I've waited for you to give me some sign you were interested in acting on all the fucking hot chemistry we generate whenever we're alone. I thought you weren't the type to-you're a rule follower by nature, and men like us break the rules every time we come together."

A wide smile breaking over Arthur's face, there was no hesitation now. "I want to spend as much time breaking the rules with you as possible."

"Thank Christ."

Now that they both knew where they stood they couldn't get out of their clothes fast enough, the task interrupted constantly for heated kisses and possessive hands that needed to touch the newly bared skin. Especially when Arthur got his first look at the tattoos that decorated the other man's upper body, this spurring him to forget everything but leaning in to trace the colorful markings with his tongue, cursing his Stetson for getting in the way, lifting a hand to remove it.

"Ah, ah. Leave that on, Darling." Voice husky with need Eames reached between them to stroke Arthur's erection in a really good ploy to distract him. "I've been dreaming for months about how you'd look riding me with nothing on you but that bloody hat."

Shuddering at the words, both for the images they inspired and the confirmation that Eames had been wanting him just as long, Arthur's resolve was ironclad. Eames had spent night after night lying in bed, unable to sleep, knowing the other man was so close but not daring to cross the short distance for fear of rejection too.

And not about to waste another moment Arthur turned his full attention back to stripping the other man naked and then taking Eames's rough, calloused hand in his tugged him over towards the bed. Laughing in delight when the Englishman pounced on him as soon as they were stretched out on it, Arthur relished rolling around on the mattress as they fought to give and take the most pleasure, their bodies gliding over each other perfectly as they learned how the other wished to be touched and taken.

Both sensible enough to know that this first time they couldn't draw it out, too desperate from waiting so long, Arthur quickly retrieved a bottle of oil he kept at his bedside table for solo relief due to having Eames as a neighbor, licking his lips in eagerness as he shifted up to his elbows so he could watch the other man's now slippery fingers slid between his legs to sheath themselves inside of him, ignoring the discomfort and egging Eames on for more as each finger was worked inside him, wanting everything Eames would give him.

When Eames was apparently satisfied that he was ready enough to take him the other man retrieved the hat that had fallen off the bed during their tussling and placed it back on Arthur's head, taking a moment to appreciate the look before rearranging them until he was sitting with his back against the headboard, Arthur sitting on his lap.

Saying the man's name over and over again as he made his need known Arthur gasped and arched when he felt Eames's left hand grip his ass while the other was used to work the man's erection inside of him, slowly sliding through the tight muscles that made the penetration that much more real and branding.

Panted curses and groans filled the air as they fit their bodies together, going still when Eames was fully inside Arthur in order to give him time to adjust to him.

"Fuck but you look even more sexy than I thought you would." Eames groaned out as his hands moved possessively over Arthur's torso. "You have no idea…"

"Show me then. Ride me too." Arthur challenged, deliberately raking his short nails up the man's back before once again digging into the man's shoulders as he drew up on his knees, moved his hips, and then dropped back down to impale himself, repeating the action again and again while Eames's hands dug into his hips and ass to help.

Groaning in absolute agreement of the plan Eames let the man take the reins until they were both so close to fulfillment they were in danger of yelling the building down, the Englishman taking over at the point after agreeing that he would wear the hat next time.

To Arthur's way of thinking, once his brain was working again a long while later, turnabout was only fair.


	9. Rockn Hard

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all characters in. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

To XxrockyxX for constantly reviewing and suggesting this scenario!

Note: Handsome Bob is now Handsome Tom because in my books not even Tom Hardy can make the name Bob sexy lol.

Rockn Hard

Technically he was supposed to be listening to Arthur, and logically Eames knew that, but he couldn't concentrate on the man's rundown and evaluation of their latest run through of the dream. Because it was official, Eames silently acknowledged to himself, he was going to tear the bloody city apart to find a fucking cowboy hat. And even if he had to get Arthur drunk, he was going to get the man shirtless and wearing that hat even thought Arthur was liable to shoot him afterwards. From where he was sitting it would be worth it.

He was lost in his daydreams of the various positions they could have sex in while keeping that hat on Arthur's head when he was jostled out of it by the sound of Saito's voice.

When he turned his head to see what was going on he saw that the man was standing by the large screen that had been brought in while they were unconscious, Saito refusing to explain why until after the meeting. It was a testament to the sex appeal of Arthur that he'd forgotten about it so easily.

And while he had been curious about it he hadn't once hypothesized that the man wanted to show him a Youtube clip.

Getting out of his seat Eames joined the others, sadomasochistic enough to deliberately stand beside Arthur, letting their shoulders brush and feeing thrilled when the man turned his head to meet his gaze, the connection zinging through them both.

"I wanted to ask you about something, Arthur, before we leave for the day."

Okay, he didn't like that tone of voice any more that Arthur did, Eames thought as he joined the point man in watching Saito the way you watched a predator of equal strength. Very carefully and cautiously.

"You wouldn't understand."

Everyone looked back and forth between the two, confused.

"You want to know why someone of my intelligence and personality would do the things that that video you have cued up shows me doing. I don't have an answer you can understand." His voice even, not portraying for a moment how pissed he had to be at having his privacy invaded, Arthur met Saito's gaze head on. "Though there are any number of decisions you've made in the past that I don't understand either. Perhaps we'll have a drink sometime and answer each other's questions."

Arthur was their point man, digging up information was what he did. And not being idiots everyone in the room knew what the man was implying. If Saito didn't back off when it came to Arthur's past the man would do plenty of digging into Saito's past and uncover every little secret the man would prefer to remain hidden and unknown. And Arthur didn't make idle threats.

Obviously getting the picture Saito turned off the screen, though not before everyone else had memorized the title and who had posted it so that they could check it out when Arthur wasn't around to catch them.

)

Eames's Dream

They were on their knees, all hurting and facing down guns they knew could unleash a volley of bullets into their bodies at any moment. Right now their lives hung in the balance, in the hands of the well dressed man standing off to the side, out of the line of fire and obviously the sort who enjoyed playing with his prey. Hikaru Saito was said to be merciless, cold blooded, and the type who didn't know the meaning of a second chance. He was just getting started when it came to expanding his criminal empire into England, which meant he was also a man with something to prove with those who currently ruled Britain's underworld.

He was going to make an example of them.

But at least he'd die with his mates, Handsome Tom thought fiercely, aware of One-Two and Mumbles on either side of him, the rest beside or behind them. They'd die together, no regrets.

When the man in charge spoke it was in Japanese, none of them having any idea what the fuck the guy was saying, but whatever it was had his men taking aim, obviously picking who they would shoot so as not to waste too many bullets.

Staring into the eyes of the one who'd picked him Tom glared, refusing to show a hint of fear as he prepared to die, his resolve not to look away shattering like the finest of china as a voice rang out from nearby, something about it tipping him off even before the lone figure came walking out from between the shipping crates, a number of guns pointing in his direction before Saito ordered them to turn their attention back to their actual targets.

"Mr. Blake. To what do I owe this…unexpected visit?"

"I came to stop you from doing something you'll regret." Was the man's cool response. "You don't want to shoot these men."

"And why is that, exactly?"

"Because they're the Wild Bunch."

While the words hung in the air Tom couldn't help but stare at his former lover, wondering what the hell Arthur was up to. The man was supposed to be in America making millions, not here in England risking his life for them. And how did Saito know Arthur anyway?

"The Wild Bunch?" Saito repeated in polite, modulated tones.

"That's what they call themselves. You'll hear plenty about them the longer you're in this country." Arthur informed the man, having yet to so much as glance in their direction. His direction. "And that's why you can't kill them, not if you want to make your…acquisitions and business deals here go as smoothly as possible. Letting them live won't make you seem weak either, it's what everyone does when it comes to them."

It was at that point that Arthur launched into a listing of their more well known escapades, taking great effort to make them seem as incompetent, stupid, and just plain laughable as possible. That of course set his mates to swearing and arguing, the men going silent only when Saito informed them they'd be shot if they didn't let Arthur speak. So it was back to Arthur, who then informed Saito that the only reason the Wild Bunch ever pulled off a job successfully was because God looked after fools and drunks and they were both.

"In the end the Wild Bunch are the little brothers of the criminal world. They're loud and annoying, failing constantly to be as successful, powerful, and strong as their 'older brothers'. The fact that they're still alive at this point is because big brothers tolerate, use, and beat the shit out of their little brothers, but they don't kill them. And they won't tolerate anyone else doing so either."

"And the fact that that one there looks at you as though he knows you?"

All eyes were on him now, and mentally Tom cursed a blue streak, knowing that that must have been why Arthur hadn't so much as glanced at him once.

"If saving Mr. Eames was all I cared about I would just offer to take a significant pay cut in exchange for him and let you kill the others. Though yes, I don't deny that I know about the Wild Bunch because of him. Our grandmothers were best friends from childhood and she brought me to England ever summer when she came to visit. We're honorary family of sorts…and I won't work for you if you hurt him."

It was at that point that Saito decided he needed to have a conversation with Arthur in private, the two going off to the side to chat while the guards made sure that everyone stayed where they were supposed to be.

"Tom?"

Understanding what was being asked Tom kept his voice low as he explained that yes, Arthur was a childhood mate of his and the yes, they could trust him to try and get them out of this mess.

The others muttered some insulting things of their own about Arthur for putting their egos into blenders and hitting puree, but the mood lightened somewhat and they went silent, smart enough to realize that it was in their best interests to let Arthur do the talking for the moment.

And it was only a couple minutes passing before Saito ordered his men to stand down and Arthur came over to speak to them, his face all business.

"Leave and stay the fuck away from him from now on or what he'll do to you will make the SAW movies seem humane. Tom, go back to your flat and wait for me there. And you damn well better be there when I get there or I'm going to save Saito the bullet and shoot you myself, understand?"

"I'll be there. Thanks for…for this." He finished lamely, there being no words really.

Arthur nodded, told them to go again and then left them to speak to Saito once more, the Wild Bunch heading out with One-Two and Mumbles pulling him with them, seeming to sense his unwillingness to leave Arthur with their would be murderer.

)

An hour later he paced his apartment, stopping every once in a while to check the time or his appearance in the mirror. He'd had a shower, brushed his teeth, and changed, opting not to shave since he knew Arthur secretly liked the hint of shadow. Arthur. Fuck. It had been fucking years since they'd seen each other. They'd spoken a few months ago over the phone, but Arthur had spent that whole 'conversation' ripping him a new one for not contacting him when he'd been facing jail time before hanging up on him.

Like he could have done that. He was enough of a fuck up in the man's eyes as it was.

God, he was going to be talking to Arthur face to face any minute now. What was he supposed to say?

Maybe Arthur would just yell at him again, he could live with that. He was used to that. Arthur had a lot of practice yelling at him, especially when it came to his choice of mates and profession.

Actually jumping when the knock on his door registered Tom took a deep breath for courage and then walked over and unlocked the door, stepping to the side to make room for Arthur to come in. Once he was Tom closed the door behind him and then turned to face the younger man, casual greets dying in his throat as he just stood there, staring into those oh so familiar brown eyes, a wealth of history lying between them like chains only they could see.

They stared into each other's eyes for several heartbeats and then Arthur was moving towards him, wrapping one arm around his waist while the other hand cupped the back of his head as Arthur buried his face against the side of his neck.

"You stupid…stupid…Fuck I was so scared." Arthur's voice was only just audible. "So fucking scared I wouldn't get to you in time."

When Arthur used the F word that often you knew he was at the end of his rope, Tom thought as he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, holding him tight as he rocked them slightly, shocked to know the younger man still had such strong feelings for him. Arthur had loved him once, but he'd thought he'd destroyed most of that by his refusal to come out of the closet or go with the man to America.

Apparently he'd been wrong.

And though it had been years since they'd touched he didn't forget how, tugging Arthur's tucked in shirt out so that he could stroke his hands up and down the man's spine, knowing it would distract him.

Smiling at the way Arthur arched into his touch, a familiar purring sound of pleasure reaching his ears, Tom's smile dimmed when the situation obviously registered in his former lover's brilliant brain, Arthur moving away as a result so that they were once again facing off, their hands dropping to their sides.

"What were you thinking, trying to steal from Saito? Even if you'd succeeded you'd have been dead in less than twenty four hours. For Christ's sake, that dumb Scot you're so hot for was so dumb he told his idiot girlfriend what you were going to do and she was telling everyone who would listen, which was how I knew to come after you in the first place. I mean did you develop a fucking death wish since the last time we talked?"

He wanted to point out how much money they would have made on the heist, and defend One-Two, but the words died in his throat so that instead he shuffled his feet, looking down at them as he spoke.

"If I admit we were stupid will you leave it at that?"

"Since nothing I ever say ever gets through that thick skull of yours, yes. Though I have to wonder if it wouldn't sink in better if I knocked your head open with a bat or whatever weights you've been lifting to get that arm definition."

Barely restraining himself from flexing said arms to show them off Tom rubbed the back of his head as he tried to figure out what to say next as he studied Arthur's face for clues as to how to proceed.

And it was while he was doing so that he really got a good look at him, a frown crossing his lips. "You aren't looking so good, are you okay?" Arthur had always been slender, but the suit didn't fit the man's frame perfectly which said to him that Arthur had lost weight recently. The man was a total clothes snob. His cheekbones were too pronounced too, and those brown eyes had shadows in them.

"It's been a bad couple of months." A pause, then Arthur obviously decided to trust him with the info. "My business partner screwed up big time and now we're both stuck doing a job for Saito. Constant traveling and hotel rooms don't agree with me, and I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep. I actually went to the pub hoping to patch things up with you and see if you'd let me borrow your couch."

"My couch? How is that better than a hotel room?"

"Nevermind." Was Arthur's answer, moving in to give him a quick, manly hug goodbye. "I'm just gonna go…thanks for not being dead when I got there."

Wrapping his arms around the man so Arthur couldn't get away Tom spoke on impulse. "Stay. My bed is a king and way more comfortable than my couch. We can share."

"You and I can't share a bed without ending up naked together."

Tom grinned. "Are you saying I'm irresistible, Darling?"

"You know you are…to me."

Silently acknowledging the fact that Arthur would never have said such a thing if he weren't crashing from an adrenaline high mixed with exhaustion, Tom didn't care as he leaned in to slate his lips against Arthur's, a soft little moan escaping his when the mouth he remembered so well parted for him automatically, letting him in.

And it was just that easy to slip back in time, to the way things had once been. Neither had forgotten how the other liked to be kissed and touched, their bodies fitting together as seamlessly as they always had. There was no shyness either as hands moved to removed Arthur's suit jacket and then their shirts, Tom loving the immediate lust that flamed in his former lover's eyes when he caught sight of his bared chest.

"Oh hell…you added to them."

"I did indeed."

Arthur's lips turned into a pout. "You never did fight fair…how am I supposed to resist you now?"

"You don't."

The two shared a look that said they were both aware this was going to come back to bite them in the ass, but both were too busy remembering how much they'd enjoyed the other applying their mouths and teeth to various areas of their anatomy to care overly as they went back to reacquainting themselves with each other's upper bodies.

Slowly herding Arthur towards his bedroom with his body, Tom's hands got busy undoing the other man's belt and trousers, groaning when Arthur did the same for him without hesitation.

By the time they reached the bed they were both naked and the foreplay had taken a turn for the serious as they quickly demolished the formerly made up bed as they rolled around on the covers with fingers digging in and pulling out the sheets in response to the passion the other elicited in them.

And pinning Arthur on the bed Tom couldn't help but grin even as he bit down on his lip to muffle his reaction as his former lover rubbed their lower bodies together, dilating his slender form under him in the sexiest of fashions.

"Will ya stay the night with me?"

"You sure you want to issue that invitation?" Arthur countered, stilling his movements.

"Yeah." Tom couldn't help but grin. "That way I can shag your brains out now and take my time with it on our second go."

Obviously amused Arthur nodded, agreeing that he would stay the night so long as there were more than two gos to enjoy.

Which Tom was more than happy to agree to as he showed his enthusiasm for that plan by going back to kissing the hell out of his man, who returned the favor and then some before they finally turned each other loose so that Tom could retrieve the condoms and lube they were going to need in abundance for the activities to come.

Once they were retrieved from the bedside table the two quickly put them to good use, Arthur commandeering the condoms to fit them on them both while Tom used the lube on his own fingers so that he could start using them to open his man's ass up, loving the reactions said fingers were soon getting as Arthur rode them with abandoned enthusiasm.

And when it came time for him to take Arthur with something other than his fingers Tom grinned in delight when his lover proved just how well the younger man remembered his preferences by rolling over and onto his stomach, rubbing his ass back against him in a way that made his desire for possession and domination clear.

"Ah, Darling, how I've missed your pretty arse."

"It's missed you too."

What could he say, he loved dominant, forceful and strong men, Tom thought as he took what was being offered, eyes closing as he wallowed in the sensation of Arthur's body opening for him, closing around him to keep him there, buried inside of him as they moved in synch.

And he really loved shagging their bloody brains out until they were mindless with pleasure under him, surrendering themselves to the pleasure he could and did give them, Tom added with a wicked little grin, as he did precisely that.


	10. Explanation Time

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

Explanation Time

As he got dressed for the day Arthur's eyes couldn't help but go towards the lap top sitting on the nearby hotel desk. He was tempted to go online and see how many more hits that damn Youtube clip had gotten since he'd retired the night before, but it really didn't matter at this point. The clip was nearly a decade old so for it to suddenly get so many hits-there was no explanation other than that the rest of his team had not only watched it, but more than a few times each.

It wasn't the clip itself he had a problem with, if it were he would have erased it years ago, Arthur thought as he zipped up his pants. It was the questions he wasn't looking for.

Because they weren't going to understand any better than Saito why he would risk serious injury and possibly death performing bicycle stunts for the hell of it. For the amusement of others. The clip showed him going the opposite way in rush hour New York traffic, hopping gates that ordinarily reached his waist, going down flights of stairs and over a line of junkyard cars. Then there were the stunts performed at a park actually designed for that sort of thing.

And to top it all off the thirty minute video ended with him and the clip's uploader discussing what he should do next, V coming into the shot to inform him he'd done enough and that if he'd stop now they'd head back to her place and he could ride her instead.

The grin he aimed at the camera said it all, the rest of the video a list of the places they'd been and special thanks to crap.

It was stupid as hell, and he knew it, but he hated the idea of Eames seeing that last part.

Which was so very, very stupid.

Almost as stupid as the bike stunts, Arthur ruefully acknowledged, able now to look back on the boy and man he'd been and shake his head over his own stupidity.

He'd lost his parents when he was ten, and he hadn't handled it well. He'd shut down completely inside to the point where he hadn't felt much of anything besides guilt that he was making his grandmother worry about him. So he'd pretended to be fine, back to normal, when all the while he'd been essentially dead inside. Dead except when he realized that he could still enjoy his bike riding provided there was risk involved.

Then he'd felt alive.

So like an idiot he'd pushed and pushed himself, sheer dumb luck keeping him from killing himself as he skipped grades and graduated from elementary school and then high school in record time thanks to his genius level IQ. He'd gone to law school because his grandmother thought it would suit him, giving up the serious bike stunts for Vanessa's sake as he continued to pretend he was just a good ole boy like everyone else. He'd stayed a bicycle messenger though, no way he was giving that up. Then he'd dropped out after his grandmother passed away just months before taking the bar, staying as a courier and with Vanessa until he dumped her for taking up smoking to cope with her new job stress. She'd refused to quit and that was a relationship breaker in his books.

His courier days had ended when he'd gotten a letter from an old professor who'd offered him some serious cash to come to his former alma mater and take this specialized test for some government people. Apparently the old man had mentioned his extreme intelligence to some people in high places.

After that he'd been introduced to his current profession, which had turned out to be even better than the high he got from his stunts and couriering.

It was also then that he'd stopped pretending to be anyone but who he was, dropping his nice guy persona and simply behaving how he wished and to hell with everyone else. It wasn't like he wanted people in his life anyway now that he'd lost all the others.

And wouldn't you know it, he'd truly started living then. Proof that even someone of his massive intelligence could suffer from testosterone poisoning at times. Arthur's lips curved into a small smile at the thought, the smile vanishing at the sound of a knock at his door.

Walking over to the door Arthur stood to the side, not bothering to look through the Judas hole to see who it was. That was a good way to get a bullet in the eye. Instead he called out for his guest to identify himself, Eames's voice coming through the wooden door.

So Eames was going to be the first to question him, Arthur thought as he undid the lock and then opened the door. No surprise given the man's curiosity, though at least Eames had come with bribes, which he appreciated as he hadn't yet headed out to eat. "Come in."

"Thanks."

)

Taking the seat he was offered Eames passed the coffee and crepe he'd gotten for Arthur across the table that divided them, having learned the man's preferences when it came to both over the years. He'd figured he better come with something given how pissed off the other man had to be given that the others had no doubt watched the Youtube clip as many times as he had the night before. A clip that had confirmed two of the three things he'd been looking to prove to confirm his dream theory. He hadn't been able to find out whether Arthur's scar was from a collision with a taxi, but the man had made his hatred of them clear.

"So aren't you going to ask?"

Meeting Arthur's gaze Eames had to admit that it was tempting as hell to pretend that his only reason for coming by on their day off was to nag Arthur into explaining to him why the bloody hell he'd done such incredibly stupid things on a bleeding bicycle, but he knew that if he did they'd just end up arguing and not talking about the real reason he'd come by. And while that was even more tempting, since then it would be Arthur's fault and not his, Eames knew that excuse wouldn't fly when Arthur eventually figured out what was going on and through questioning him found out that he'd figured it out already.

That would not end well for him at all.

"Actually, I didn't come to talk about the clip. Well I did, but not in the way you're assuming."

"I'm listening."

Taking a sip from his own take out cup to give himself a moment, Eames let the warmth settle in his stomach before setting aside the coffee to turn his attention to meeting Arthur's gaze, which for the moment betrayed nothing.

"So I've been….do you remember how a little while ago Yusuf gave just you and I that injection, one that was supposed to solidify the connection between our two dreams to make it easier to move from one to the next?"

Eyes narrowing ever so slightly Arthur nodded. "Yes, but there was no noticeable changes so we decided the experiment was a failure. Do you have reason to believe they injected us with something other than what they claimed?"

"You think Yusuf would do that?"

"I think that he's someone who knows he's being offered the brass ring that could permanently elevate him to a life he probably dreamed was never a possibility. He's also a scientist, and they frequently push the lines they're given in the pursuit of knowledge and financial reward. That aside Dom would do anything, sacrifice anything to get home again. Yusuf might not even know how many lines he's crossing at this point."

He wasn't a prat, he was well aware of how desperate Cobb was to get back to his tykes. But to sacrifice Arthur, which was basically what the man was saying he knew his partner to be capable of…that did not bode well for them.

"No." He said slowly, pushing such thoughts aside to think about later. "I don't think the experiment had a different purpose and they lied to us…more that it mutated on us in a way we didn't expect."

"Explain."

"I'm trying, Darling." Scrubbing his hands over his face Eames said fuck it and laid it out. "I think the drug made our dreams connect but not the ones we induce. Our regular ones. I think we've been sharing dreams ever since we were injected. Whether the content is the same I don't know, but that we're influencing each other is the only logical explanation for one of mine. First, cat burglar and football player, second, Robin and reporter, third, knight and king. Forth-."

"Stop."

Doing as Arthur asked Eames went quiet, not really surprised that outwardly Arthur betrayed nothing as to what he was thinking or feeling at the moment. The man shut down like no one's business. Even when he was pushed to his limits and was pissed as hell he still reined it in better than anyone he knew.

Secretly he'd always wanted to see what happened when Arthur let his temper loose, though only if the anger was directed at someone else.

Unable to sit, needing to move, Arthur pushed back his chair and got up, starting to pace back and forth as he processed the information he'd just been given, the idea that they'd been sharing the highly intimate dreams he'd been having recently shaking him to the core.

"You said…you something about one of the dreams tipped you off. Which one?"

Staying where he was Eames answered. "The dreams struck me as off, too real and out of my control and…well to make a long story short I asked Ariadne if hers were being messed with as well. She said no but pointed out that you and I had been given something the rest hadn't and that got me thinking and…the messenger dream. I would never have imagined you with that hair and I didn't know you'd ever had a girl named Vanessa. In the Youtube clip your hair is that way…and the girl in it…you called her V and your relationship is obvious. I couldn't tell myself my theory was wrong after that."

A part of him was pissed that Eames had connected the dots-hell, had seen the dots at all before him, but the majority of his mind was looking for holes in that theory and finding none. Because Eames was right, there was no way the forger could have known about the hair or V except through his own memories of that time in his life.

"Hell."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Nine. We've shared nine dreams. Going back and forth as to who has more control over the dream that night, the stronger vision of it. And because this wasn't supposed to happen we have no way of knowing how long this will continue to happen or even if there's a possibility that this could be…permanent."

Eames nodded slowly, the look in his eyes making it apparent that he hadn't considered the possibility that this could be a permanent thing.

Feeling like his head was going to explode at the thoughts zipped through and multiplied, Arthur started pacing back and forth again, blocking out the forger's presence in self-defense. The man muddied his ability to think clearly even without adding the elephant still standing in the room being acknowledged. Because they had yet to address the issue of what they'd been doing in the dreams. The fact that they were always lovers in their shared dreams. Lovers who in some cases truly loved each other and had expressed their feelings that way.

Those dreams, regardless of their bizarre beginnings, were still a product of his and Eames's sub consciousness.

Just how much did those dreams betray about them…and how they felt about the other?

)

Getting to his own feet since he couldn't sit still anymore either, Eames walked around the table and stayed out of Arthur's way as he paced, though he was close enough to reach out and grab him as he passed by if he desired to. Which was why, for the moment, he was keeping his hands firmly in his pockets.

"Uhm…Darling?"

Flinching at the endearment Arthur met Eames's gaze, seeing that the man regretted the use of that particular petname as well. "What?"

"Sorry. I wanted to ask…are you straight or bi?"

Blinking in surprise Arthur gave a harsh little laugh. "Do you really think I'd be taking this as well as I am if I wasn't the latter, Mr. Eames? I would imagine most straight men would be quite horrified to suddenly start dreaming about having sex with another man who's a colleague he works with often." Pause. "These days I prefer men, in general. I've decided women are more trouble than they're worth."

"Just wanted to confirm. You're a hard man to figure sometimes."

"Thank you." He often worried that he revealed more than he wanted to where the incredibly perceptive and observant Englishman was concerned.

A couple minutes of silence followed that, only the light sound of Arthur's feet on the hardwood floors interrupting the quiet.

"Do you want to talk to Yusuf about this?" Arthur finally forced himself to ask as he locked eyes with Eames. "Not the nature of the dreams…I'll kill you if you discuss that with anyone else…but the fact that we're sharing our normal dreams and our suspicion that he's the reason."

He'd thought about lying, about giving the answer he probably should, but in the end he couldn't help but think the dreams were maybe, just maybe, trying to tell them something about their relationship that they were refusing the admit to while awake. "If that's what you want I'll go along, but I don't have a problem with just letting it run its course. This was brought on by a drug, it's got to wear off sooner or later."

"You're fine with dreaming about us together for an indefinite amount of time?"

"Do you really think I'd be taking this as well as I am if I wasn't?" Eames resorted, deliberately paraphrasing him.

Moving before his brain had a chance to remind him as to why he shouldn't, Arthur stopped only when they were within a foot of each other, facing off with their shared gaze unbroken. And now that they were this close his brain was screaming at him to back off, to move away, but it was already too late.

Moving closer was all the encouragement Eames needed to take the next step.

Arthur jerked once when Eames's arm came up to wrap around his waist, the man's large hand resting so very possessively at the small of his back while Eames's other hand was moving to cup the back of his head, moving his head so very slowly towards his own.

He could and should stop this, Arthur thought as his eyelashes slowly lowered, moving his head of his own volition to line their mouths up better. But he wasn't going to. Wasn't because he needed to know, even if it was just this once, how truthful the dreams he'd had about Tom Eames were when it came to the powerful chemistry they ignited when they kissed.

Lips meeting it became very clear very quickly that the dreams had not been exaggerating how very flammable they were together when they weren't trying to pretend the chemistry between them didn't exist. The dreams also did away with any of the hesitation or experimentation often present in a first kiss, both men knowing exactly how the other liked to be kissed and just how to nudge the other towards deepening the kiss so that their tongues could lick the flames even higher.

Drawing Arthur that much closer, craving body on body contact, Eames took it a step further by taking advantage of the fact that Arthur's shirt wasn't tucked in, thus allowing him to slide a hand under the soft cotton to stroke the point man's back just the way he knew Arthur liked it.

The purred moans and the way Arthur started rubbing up against him like a cat confirmed that.

Wanting to return the favor Arthur forced his body to relax and allow Eames to control the kissing, surrendering the controls and smiling against the man's lips when Eames showed his appreciation through hot, opened mouth kisses that left him hot and aching for more.

Ah bloody hell, he could do this for hours and not get tired of it. And Eames was more than a little aware of the fact that a bedroom wasn't far away, one with a bed that he would very much like to get Arthur naked and sprawled out on.

But he also knew that that wasn't his best course of action, dammit.

Curses getting old and mature enough not to think completely with his cock, Eames mentally ranted as he forced himself to pull back from the kiss, waiting until Arthur slowly opened his eyes to meet his before he posed the question that would hopefully get them out of the hotel room before he lost his head completely.

"Will you spend the day with me, Darling?"

"What?"

Valuing his life Eames forced himself not to grin. "I'm asking you to spend the day with me. To go out with me. On a date."

"Why?"

Okay, a little smile couldn't piss the man off that much. "Because that's what normal people who are attracted to each other do."

Considering that statement and the little smile that had accompanied it, Arthur couldn't help but smile a little back even though he was already jonesing for more attention from Eames's lips. "And if I were to suggest staying in instead?"

Eames gave him puppy dog eyes. "Please don't. I'm trying to behave here."

"And why is that, exactly?"

"Because, Darling, if shagging you was all I was interested in, I could stick with the dreams we're sharing."

)

Okay, weekly updates for this will be on hold for a while due to lack of interest from readers. I will keep it going though, and there will be shared dreams as per usual in the coming chapters.


	11. Business Pleasure

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Dedicated to LitaMaxwell for the story idea, hope you like. And sorry that the French part isn't hyphenated the way it should be, I don't now how to do that on my laptop.

Business Pleasure

It took some doing on his part, but Eames was finally able to convince Arthur to spend the day with him. And as they'd both spent time in Paris before and spoke the language they opted to avoid the usual tourist traps, preferring to explore areas of the city they'd never been in before in order to soaking up more of the local color. They also did their best not to get into or pick a fight with the other, which wasn't easy. The habit was ingrained after all, though not as deeply as it had been before the dreams.

Eames and Arthur tried not to discuss the dreams too much, though they did end up having a discussion over lunch as to whether they thought the couples they'd portrayed in the dreams had any chance of actually making it had they been real and living in the various time periods.

Not surprisingly they disagreed with each other quite a bit there, though both of them agreed that Robin and the reporter were probably doomed simply because bad things always happened to people who got involved with super heroes.

Death or turning/being evil were pretty much the only options for superhero lovers.

It was comic book law.

And they both wanted the two soldiers to find each other, which, according to Eames, proved that Arthur had a romantic heart under his tough, no nonsense exterior.

Arthur bah humbugged that, but wore a little smile while he said it.

So the day went by, ending with them walking down the Seine together at twilight, Eames using the excuse that he was a little cold to stay close to Arthur. At one point he even drew the other man into his arms for a quick snuggle just because it was so obvious that the looks they were getting were annoying the private man.

And to head off the lecture he was about to get Eames leaned in to press his lips against Arthur's ear. "Me reveiller a cote de toi, c'est le plus beau de tous les reves." He whispered as he tightened his hold, very pleased at the fact that his words had still Arthur's controlled attempt to slide out of his grasp, the point man allowing him to cuddle close now.

"You haven't woken beside me yet." Arthur pointed out as he struggled to keep his head as his insides went all mushy in spite of himself. "So you don't know if it's more lovely than a dream."

"But I will, and I bet it is."

Damn, all this dream sex was making him a complete and total pushover. "I suppose we'll see."

Neither spoke much after that, Arthur waiting until they were starting back towards their hotel before he brought up the topic he'd been deliberately avoiding since they'd left their temporary residence that morning. Though in truth, it was a topic that had always been between them, at least on his side.

"Eames…you know how seriously I take my job, and you take it seriously too…mostly. I don't believe in dating people I work with. If I did I would have put the moves on you long before the dreams started happening."

Glancing over in Arthur's direction Eames was wise enough not to preen over that last bit, especially since he could say the same. Part of it was the fact that Arthur had never encouraged or returned his flirting, but he was also careful about keeping his work and play separate too. It kept things in perspective. "So that's a no on a repeat of this?"

"We're facing our biggest job ever and the odds are stacked high against us. You're enough of a distraction on a regular job, and us not being together works to our advantage in this case. Dom knows I won't tell him what he wants to hear, but he'll tell you. The more we know about what he's up to the better and safer we'll both be." Arthur took a careful breath and then continued. "So I don't think we should date or sleep together until this job is over. I have a cottage on the beach booked for a month after this job in California. I wouldn't mind company."

He didn't like the idea of waiting or hiding the fact that they had finally reached a point where they were willing to attempt having a relationship. But Arthur had a point that they actually stood a better chance looking divided than they did as a unit. And they were walking a tightrope because of the nature of this job, the man they were working for, and the people they were working with. They couldn't afford to slip up or allow themselves to be distracted.

And oh what a sexy little distraction Arthur could be without even trying.

So the man had a point, and was dangling a carrot for him so to speak with the idea of a month at the beach, just them. But that wasn't quite a big enough carrot for him to willingly keep his hands to himself now that he knew Arthur wanted them. "I'll agree to that with one condition."

"Which is?"

"That before we go to said cottage we find a place that sells Stetsons so that I can buy you one. And you have to wear it and nothing else at some point during our little holiday." The odds had always been low that he'd be able to talk Arthur into recreating that little fantasy, but this would work nicely in his favor.

Raising an eyebrow it took Arthur a moment to remember just how much the saloon owner version of Eames had liked him in a cowboy hat. Apparently the Brit had influenced that part of the dream.

He'd also expected Eames to put up more of a fuss than this, so if all he had to do was wear a stupid hat to get what he wanted… "It's a deal."

"You willing to shake on that, Darling?"

By way of answering Arthur held out his hand, Eames taking it and shaking it. And then he brought their joined hands up to his lips so that he could kiss the back of Arthur's. "It's going to be quite a challenging keeping my hands to myself now that I know you're interested."

"More than you can handle?" Arthur shot back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"Oh I'll be handling you just right soon enough, Darling, I promise you that."

)

Their Dream

Running full out, side by side, neither man looked at the other or behind them, their eyes on their destination. It was too much to hope that they'd somehow lost the mob of fans and paparazzi who'd pounced on the other members of the band before Arthur had gotten away. But the red claw marks on the man's skin and the fact that the T-shirt he'd been wearing a half an hour before was now in tatters made it clear they shouldn't take any chances. The fans in particular were out for blood after the barely average concert they'd just sat through on top of Dom making it that much worse with his little announcement minutes before.

As it was Eames had barely managed to get to Arthur, and that was only thanks to years spent as a bouncer at clubs.

"If he lives through this I'm going to kill Dom."

Nodding his head Eames was more than willing to agree that the lead singer for DreamWorkers had been asking for an ass kicking when he'd announced that they were replacing his late wife's position as female lead with some university student Dom had apparently met in Paris. That the two were romantically involved had sent the reporters into a feeding frenzy and the diehard fans had completely lost it, charging Dom and his new song bird with the intent of removing her from their beloved band permanently. Arthur had gotten caught in the middle and his own rabid fans had leapt on him in the ensuing chaos.

Reaching his RV Eames quickly unlocked it and held it open, right on Arthur's heels as soon as the other man was inside. Locking it behind them it didn't surprise either man when a minute later the sound of people banging on the structure filled the air, voices demanding to know what Arthur thought about the latest member of his band since it had been so obvious from the man's earlier reaction that he hadn't known beforehand what Dom was up to.

"Don't worry, they'll give up shortly. You shouldn't be stuck here for too long." That he'd been wanting to get Arthur alone and with a bed nearby for a long time registered in his mind, but Eames was careful to keep his voice neutral and without its usual charm. The man had already been through a hellish two hour concert on top of a bad three month tour. The rest had been icing on what had to be a really, really bad cake.

Fighting mental and physical exhaustion Arthur didn't bother to try and keep his work face in place, too used to Eames by now to worry about keeping his cool. The man had worked with his band for three years now and he made it his business to know everyone he regularly worked with. Especially hot Brits with tattoos who oozed sex appeal, Arthur mentally added ruefully, looking towards the trailer's door. "Sorry to put you out."

"It's no problem, really."

Not wanting to muck up the man's home, especially since Eames was doing him a favor, Arthur reached down and removed his ankle boots as they were now caked with mud. Setting them by the short set of stairs Arthur tried without success to ignore the voices, his fingers opening and closing into fists as he stared at the door.

Knowing better then to comment Eames took off his own shoes and set them beside Arthur's, liking the look of their shoes set side by side. Which just went to show that he'd been working wayyyyyyy too hard, Eames decided, shaking the idea out of his head before walking over to his kitchen area to open up his mini fridge. "I'm going to have a beer, want something? I've got water and orange juice in here too."

"No, thank you. I'm fine for the moment." Rubbing his hands wearily over his face Arthur winced, drawing his hands back with a look of annoyance at the hints of makeup that clung to his fingertips now. "Would you mind if I used your bathroom though? I want to wash this crap off my face and clean these scrapes up."

"Sure, go ahead. The First Aid kit is under the sink."

"Thanks."

Eames waited until Arthur was in the bathroom before heading over to his stereo, turning it on and switching through the radio channels until he found something halfway decent to drown out the reporters and fans banging on his trailer like the insane mob they were. That done he set aside his beer and quickly made his way through the small space, wanting to tidy it up a little in case the other man was willing to stick around for a while once security finally remembered how to do their job and dispersed the crowd.

Working his way towards the bedroom area Eames had just finished making his bed when he heard the bathroom door open and Arthur's feet on his flooring as the younger man joined him in the bedroom area.

Turning around Eames was about to offer the T-shirt he'd set out to replace the man's wrecked one when he got a look at the picture Arthur made wearing leather pants that rode low on the man's slim hips. The black garment was a stark contrast to all the pale skin Arthur was showing since he'd ditched his ruined top. The stage makeup was gone as well, not that Arthur needed anything to highlight the bewitchingly dark eyes and killer cheekbones that naturally made him look both dangerous and elegant.

And as his brain etched every detail into his memory banks the latest song on the radio died off and a new one began, Eric Carmen's 'Hungry Eyes'.

And he'd been starving for a taste of Arthur Blake for years.

"Talk about your cosmic nudges."

Before he could ask Arthur what he meant by that Eames's words died in his throat as he had only enough time to jerk in surprise before the other man's hands were framing his face, Arthur's lips pressing against his.

Surprised, but more than willing, Eames returned the kiss with equal interest and heat. He'd been wanting a taste of the man for so long, figuring it would never happen because Arthur had made it clear that he didn't mix business with pleasure. The flirting Arthur had allowed, but the handful of times he'd asked the musician out the answer had always been no because they worked together.

Then Arthur's tongue got busy in his mouth and he forgot all about that, turning his attention to returning the tongue action with interest.

Hooking his foot behind Eames's knee Arthur neatly sent the man tumbling back and onto his bed, sliding onto it to straddle the man. "Take your shirt off."

More than happy to do so Eames sat up and then reached down and grasped the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it up and over his head to toss to the floor.

"You and your tattoos. Damn, you've gotten more since the last time I saw you without a shirt." Pushing Eames back down on his back Arthur lowered his head to follow, thoroughly kissing and swirling his tongue along the various patterns and images that had been inked into the tanned skin. "You have no idea how long I've wanted your body."

"I've probably wanted yours longer." And to highlight that fact Eames reached out to undo the lacings at the front of the man's pants, which was just so incredibly sexy and explained why the man had worn his shirt un-tucked during the concert. Pulling apart the sides when the laces were loosened enough Eames groaned when he saw that Arthur was indeed going commando, probably necessary given the extreme tightness of the top half of the leather pants.

Arching his back as Eames slid the much hated pants off his ass, Arthur grinned at the way the man's eyes immediately zoomed in on the obvious proof of his arousal. "I wouldn't count on that, but we can discuss timelines later."

Happy to stay right where he was Eames turned his attention to tasting Arthur's neck while those long, elegant fingers he'd dreamed about so many times went to work undoing his belt and trousers. How he'd fantasized about those hands every time he'd watched them sliding over one of the man's keyboards or a piano. Arthur made piano hot.

And opening his mouth to complain when Arthur's neck moved out of his reach, Eames's words turned to a murmur of pleasure as the other man began kissing his way down his chest, definitely liking where this was going as Arthur made frequent stops to taste and caress his body on the way down.

He liked it even more when Arthur's fingers slid under his open trousers and wrapped around his erection, bringing it out so that the musician could swipe his tongue up its length.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

"You took care of my body earlier. It's only fair that I return the favor."

Okay, when he'd grabbed Arthur and all but carried him out of the mob he'd been expecting a lecture for manhandling him once they were free.

This was way better.

Digging his fingers into Arthur's thick, dark hair, Eames alternated between stroking and lightly gripping the strands depending on what Arthur was doing with his tongue and mouth at that particular moment, the man's skill and attentiveness to detail quickly driving him out of his mind. Damn, he'd known Arthur was a perfectionist but seriously…this was above and beyond.

Tugging on Arthur's hair insistently when he felt what little control he had left fraying, Eames's voice was thick with need as he ordered Arthur to turn him loose so that they could finish this properly. There'd be plenty of time for blow jobs later.

The gleam in his eyes indicating his amusement Arthur very slowly let go of his treat, deliberately dragging his tongue along Eames's erection as he let it slide out of his mouth.

Licking his lips Arthur crawled back up Eames's body on his hands and knees, lowering his head to swipe his tongue up the man's throat before shifting so that they were face to face. "God but I love the way your accent thickens when your emotions get the best of you."

Getting that much harder and achy at the purr in the other man's voice Eames set his hands on Arthur's hips, digging in there. "Is that so?" He asked, deliberately manipulating Arthur's hips so that they met and rubbed against his.

"Mhmmm. Why do you think I let you pick fights with me and return the favor?"

Well that certainly explained ninety percent of their fights.

He was grinning like an idiot and didn't care. "Well if you want to grab the lube and condoms from the top drawer closest to the wall we can see about thickening my accent and other things a little more, Darling."

Making a small sound of amusement Arthur shifted off his favorite roadie and slid off the bed to finish doing away with his pants and socks, pleased to see that Eames was following suit so that there would be nothing between them.

When they were both naked and he'd looked his fill for the moment Arthur turned his attention back to the drawer in question, opening it up to retrieve the items he'd come for. And spotting his own face in there too Arthur reached in and retrieved the magazine with his picture on its front cover. Holding it up with a questioning look, Arthur's cheeks flushed when Eames just gave him a knowing look. Oh.

Putting it back Arthur took out what they needed and then climbed back onto the bed, handing them over with a great deal of anticipation. And when Eames moved to take the top the sound Arthur made was of pleasure, not annoyance as he rubbed up against the other man eagerly.

That was exactly where he wanted him after all.

Neither talked as they took the necessary steps to prepare for what came next, Arthur more than happy to take the man's fingers into his body as he used his own hands to stroke his sexy Brit's mouthwatering body, insuring the fires kept burning while Eames's prepared him.

And it was just as Eames was replacing his fingers with his erection, slowly thrusting himself deeper and deeper inside of Arthur's hot and ready body, that the radio station began to play another song, one that proved that the music gods definitely approved of this relationship.

Boyz 2 Men's 'I'll Make Love To You'.

And far be it for them to argue, they set about doing precisely that.


	12. Law Breakers

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Dedicated to Molly, who asked for the 'Lawless' themed dream. Hope it meets your approval so you don't sic that psycho Rakes on me lol.

Law Breakers

Since they were supposed to be pretending that they weren't itching to tear each other's clothes off and get naked together, Eames opted to use his phone to continue to woe the man while giving the appearance of ignoring the point man entirely. So while Arthur and Dom discussed whatever it was they were discussing Eames sat back in his chair and started punching out a message and then reading it over for any spelling errors and to make sure he hadn't used any abbreviations.

The last thing he wanted was to set Arthur off on one of his rants about how kids today couldn't spell worth a damn because they were always using abbreviations and code when they texted each other.

Message proofread and sent Eames watched from his vantage point, Arthur motioning for Dom to give him a moment as he retrieved his vibrating phone from his pocket.

Reading the message on the screen Arthur forced himself not to roll his eyes or glare in Eames's direction. "This will just take a minute." He informed Dom absently before he began to text a response, his fingers flying over the keys. And as soon as he was finished he sent it, knowing there was no reason to double check his own spelling or grammar.

Having wisely put his phone on silent so that no one would make the connect Eames just waited for the text message to show on his screen before accessing it.

'No, I don't play piano and I definitely do NOT own a pair of leather pants. And no, I will not wear a pair even if you buy them for me so don't even think about it. Now I'm busy so go do something constructive like read the newspaper on my desk while we wait for Ariadne.'

Fiddling with his phone Eames thought about texting the man again, but decided that that could wait until later. He wanted Arthur's full attention after all for their text flirting.

So instead he opted to play 'Angry Bird' on his phone while he waited for the final member of their team to show up for the day.

And she came running into the warehouse twenty minutes later, Eames looking up just in time to see her hurl herself not into Dom's arms, but Arthur's, enthusiastically hugging HIS man as she tilted them both side to side before giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

"I GOT AN A!" Keeping her arms wrapped around his waist Ariadne beamed up at Arthur. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You saved my grade point average!"

"Uhm…what is going on?" Yusuf asked, asking the question Dom and Eames were thinking as both men drew closer to find out the answer.

Beaming, Ariadne explained that Arthur had helped her with an essay she'd had due for one of her classes. She'd originally taken it because it had sounded interesting, but it had turned into her least favorite class because the professor in charge was a chauvinistic jerk. His disparaging marks about her gender and nationality had made her stick with the class to prove him wrong, but that had backfired since her marks in the man's class had been seriously dragging down her overall average. In desperation she'd asked Arthur to read the book she'd had to read for her essay so that he could help her write a good comparison between it and the film version, which Arthur had already seen. She hadn't liked the movie and had wisely figured out that a guy's point of view was the only thing standing between her and barely passing the class.

"Oh…that was nice of you." Dom's voice sounded lame even to his own ears, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Shrugging, Arthur pretended that he couldn't feel Eames's eyes boring into his back. "I'm a fast reader, and I remembered the film well enough. I'm glad I could help."

"He also proofread and edited my essay for me." She informed them, wanting Arthur to get full credit. "Taking you out to dinner was not enough thanks for that mark. He totally had to eat crow and it was fab-u-lous." Ariadne all but sang.

Amused by the fact that she was still holding onto him Arthur gave into impulse and patted her head. "Well you're welcome."

"So welcome I'm taking you to this wonderful little café I know of tonight for dinner. I won't take no for an answer, especially since you deliberately ordered something cheap last time I took you out so as not to strain my still relatively poor student pockets."

And that was that as far as she was concerned, with nothing Arthur said swaying her.

)

Their Dream

Parking his car off to the side Arthur took a steadying breath and then grabbed his medical bag off the seat beside him. He'd come to check on Eames Bondurant, who wouldn't thank him for making the house call even if he were dying. But the stupid, bullheaded idiot hadn't come in as ordered for a follow up examination and damned if he was going to let the man die after he'd worked like a dog to keep him from death's door. Because while others might be stupid enough to believe that the Bondurant boys were immortal, he hadn't spent his life destroying his brain with moonshine.

His still worked better than most.

And he hadn't reached the porch of the house slash bar when his patient's younger brother came out the door, dandied up as usual.

"Hey, Doc. You here to see Eames?"

"If he's here."

The boy, Jack, grinned. "Oh he ain't goin nowhere for a while. He dun tripped in some mud yesterday and landed wrong. Put his back out. We put him to bed and he's been there since, cussin us out every chance he gets."

Given what he knew of the middle Bondurant brother Arthur surmised that the man had seriously hurt himself AGAIN if he was willingly spending the day in bed. "All right if I go up and see him then?"

"Sure. Actually, I was hopin to go out a bit, and Howard ain't here. How long you reckon you'll be here? Howard said he'd skin me alive if I left Eames alone the way he is."

He wasn't a babysitter, he had better things to do with his Saturday than look after a grunting, taciturn bootlegger who would sooner slit his own throat again than admit he needed anyone or anything. But he also knew that he couldn't trust the other two Bondurant brothers to take proper care of Eames either. The oldest was a drunk and the younger a cocksure little hoodlum with delusions of grandeur. And if the boy was itching to leave already…

"How long will you be gone?"

With some debate they settled on an hour and a half, Jack thanking him before giving him directions to Eames's room. That done the youngest Bondurant took off, leaving Arthur to find his way as he let himself in through the side door.

Heading straight up to the second floor and then to the door Jack had directed him to, Arthur knocked, not really surprised when Eames's voice came through the door demanding to know who it was. The man's brothers obviously weren't into knocking. "It's Doctor Blake. I'm here for the check up you missed."

"I'm fine."

Rolling his eyes Arthur marveled at the stupidity of his gender when it came to admitting weakness. And since he knew Eames wouldn't want him to know what condition he was in Arthur decided to let himself into the room rather than wait for the permission that wouldn't come.

It took him a moment to realize his gaze needed to lower, the man apparently preferring a mattress on the floor to an actual bed. The rest of the room went unnoticed as soon as he zeroed in on the body stretched out on his stomach, a sheet tossed haphazardly over the man's lower half. Eames was shirtless, and obviously trying to move as little as possible even as he tried to look at him.

Walking over Arthur had no choice but to sit down on the floor, meeting the man's slightly embarrassed gaze before the bootlegger's face went stony. "I know you aren't fine, and I'm not leaving until I've looked you over so just suck it up or I'm going to tell everyone in town what a baby you are."

"I won't always be stuck like this." The threat wasn't even masked.

"You can try and beat the tar out of me then." Arthur resorted, not intimidated in the least.

Their positions made clear Arthur turned his attention to taking a look at the healing exit wounds that currently decorated the man's back, pleased with the progress there. No signs of infection or new wounds, which was a nice change. Hopefully the front would look just as good, but that would require the other man to roll over.

And that would have already happened if he were up to it, men like Eames Bondurant didn't give their backs to someone they didn't trust. And boy did Eames not like doctors, which was ironic given that the man owed his life to them several times over.

So he shrugged out of his suit jacket and neatly set it aside, rolling up his sleeves as well. That done he opened the medical bag he'd set down beside him, pulling out a bottle that he'd wrapped up in a towel for padding.

"What's that?"

"Virgin olive oil. It has medicinal uses, as you may or may not know. It's also good for the skin. My hands tend to dry out given the amount of washing required for my profession." And since it seemed prudent to give proof and warning Arthur held the bottle out so the other man could read the label. "You won't be able to move until something is done to fix your back. With your permission I'll work out the kinks so to speak. It's not safe for you to leave your bar or your brothers on the loose, and you'll hurt yourself worse if something isn't done shortly." It was only a matter of time before the man grit his teeth and got up through sheer stubbornness.

The sounds that came from Eames's throat weren't words, but it made it clear he didn't appreciate the fact that he knew Arthur was right.

But he was right, and knowing that Arthur got to his feet. Given the fact that the brothers hadn't bothered to clean their brother up much before putting him to bed Arthur figured a little more dirt couldn't hurt the sheets any. So he stepped onto the mattress and then carefully lowered himself down so that he was resting on his knees while straddling the man's hips.

Feeling the surprised jerk, as well as hearing the pained groan that caused, Arthur just rolled his eyes, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You have no need to be alarmed, Mr. Bondurant. I assure you that your virtue is safe from me."

Cursing under his breath Eames couldn't believe the situation he now found himself in. And why did it have to be this doctor of all people? He didn't do well around physically attractive people, they intimidated him. Especially ones who made him feel so big, awkward, and stupid without even trying.

"Call my mother a bitch again and I will make this hurt quite a lot." Was Arthur's response as he calmly applied the oil to his hands, pleased that the humid weather had kept the contents warm and therefore ideal for his task.

Opting to start with the shoulders Arthur dug his fingers deeply into the muscle, ignoring the groans that caused as he used his deceptively elegant fingers to begin working the knots out. And they eventually gave, one after another, the tension seeping out as his patient slowly relaxed under him. Once the shoulders were taken care of he carefully moved back on his knees and then started to work from the waist up with long, sure strokes, hands gliding over the scarred, tough back thanks to the oil.

It was amusing too, how hard the man was obviously working to hide his reaction to his touch, both to the pain and to the pleasure that came from the relief of that pain and the basic pleasure one got from human touch. But then he hadn't expected less given who he was dealing with.

Which meant he was pretty sure he knew what the answer to his next question was going to be. "Are you going to shoot me later if I deal with your thigh muscles?"

)

It took a few moments for the question to sink in, the pleasure he'd been getting from the massage so huge that he'd had to use all his control not to moan and beg for more like an animal in heat. Processing and imagining what was being asked Eames found himself telling the doc to go ahead before his brain could catch up to his cock. And stunned by his own reaction, he couldn't seem to collect his senses till it was too late, he hardly noticed the mattress shifting under him as the doctor got up, turned around, and then sat back down again, his weight resting ever so slightly on his own back now.

And as he processed that he felt the sheet being lifted.

Fuck!

Resisting barely the urge to purr like a cat as he got a look at his patient's ass, Arthur forgot for a moment that this was entirely business and nothing personal. The poorly cut trousers the man typically wore had hid quite a view. This was an ass worth biting repeatedly.

But unfortunately it belonged to Eames Bondurant, which put it off limits even if the man were agreeable, which he mostly likely was not. He'd heard all about the woman the man has hired to tend bar and, according to rumors, sleep with him not too long ago. She'd run off after his patient had gotten his throat slit, obviously realizing the dangers inherent in becoming involved with a man like this.

Smart girl.

Sobered by the thought Arthur quickly applied more oil to his hands and then set to work massaging his fingers into the flesh there, trying and failing not to wonder just what he'd see in this position if the bootlegger had been on his back. He'd allowed himself to wonder a few times in the past what it would be like to have the man below him as a lover, but he wasn't stupid enough to make a move.

A long, pleasure filled groan seemed to echo in the silent room, Arthur raising his eyebrows but wisely not commenting. Apparently his patient's control was starting to fray around the edges, which would only do the man good. This was supposed to relax him after all.

Though it was doing the opposite for him, Arthur silently acknowledged.

When those muscles were taken care of to the best of his ability Arthur got up and stood at the man's side. "Please try and roll over now so that I can check your wounds and deal with the rest of your torso."

It had been so long since he'd been touched, and never like this, Eames thought as he swallowed hard, a shudder running through his body as tended to muscles bunched up again. And though he knew it would be the height of stupidity to roll over, he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

He wanted more of the man's touch. He wanted to get that close.

That his request was followed surprised Arthur as much as the earlier allowance, but he wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth. And for both their sakes he pulled the sheet back up and to the man's waist before he straddled him once more, turning his attention to leaning forward to deal with the once again tense looking shoulders.

It was the intense stare drilling into his bowed head that had Arthur looking up automatically, his own eyes widening as an involuntary shiver went down his spine. The power in those blue grey eyes, so blantly showing the alpha male predator that lurched behind Eames's quiet exterior. The lust and heat it caused to explode in his belly caught Arthur completely off guard, making him aware of the body beneath his in every fiber of his being. Wanting-no, needing more contact with it.

His head moving of its own volition, a small sound of need escaped Arthur's lips as he got close enough to feel the other man's breath on his own lips. He paused then, common sense kicking in just in time. But before he could jerk back and try to excuse his behavior Eames's lips were against his, closing the gap.

He'd never been with a man, never met one who liked men and women both the way he did. Or if he had they didn't advertise the fact any more than he did, Eames thought as he fisted a hand in the other man's hair, not wanting him to get away now that he'd caught him. Wanting this kind of thing got you shot, and people already had enough reasons to try and kill him as it was. So it had always been his dirty little secret right up until the doc had met his gaze, making it clear he wasn't the only one with a terrible need boiling through his blood.

Kissing like starving men Arthur thought nothing of allowing himself to lie fully against Eames's chest, moaning his pleasure as the man's hands moved to dig almost painfully into his hips. The better to move their bodies together, which Arthur wholeheartedly approved of when his brain started processing the incredible pleasure inspired by the movements of their seeking hips. Eames had found the perfect angle and way to drag their erections against each other's and the friction and hard thrusts had them both seeing stars.

When the kiss was broken off Arthur's eyes opened, expecting the worst as he panted for breath.

"Say my name."

Surprised by the order Arthur didn't argue, crushing his lips against Eames's for a moment as he continued to move against him before drawing back again to sigh out the man's Christian name, assuming that was what he wanted.

"And you're Arthur?" He'd heard that was the man's given name in town.

"Yes."

"Arthur." And liking the sound of the man's name Eames pressed their lips together and then rolled them over, ignoring the small aches that ignited in his still sore body. He wanted the man under him, moving under him and up the mattress with every powerful thrust he made.

The bite of the man's nails in his shoulders was icing on the cake as the minutes ticked off, the pleasure of it all eventually sending Eames over the edge with Arthur not far behind him, again crying out his name.


	13. Returning Home

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the general plot. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Returning Home

Normally Arthur preferred to go outside the hotel for breakfast even though it was free due to Saito owning the hotel they were all staying at. The breakfast buffet the place put out was a good one, but normally he didn't have a big appetite in the morning and he didn't care to dine around large groups who lacked the sense to keep in down and let him eat in peace. But today he'd woken up practically starving, so the point man headed for the dining area as opposed to the lobby as per usual.

The hostess was a perky one, which was unfortunate, but Arthur greeted her cordially enough, scanning the room quickly when she asked if there was a particular section he wished to be seated in as he was one of the boss's VIP guests.

Eyes spotting Eames quickly, he seemed to be developing radar where the Brit was concerned, Arthur informed the woman that he'd be eating with his business partner, thank you very much. He'd seat himself.

Heading in that direction Arthur couldn't help but be a little pleased when Eames suddenly turned his head to meet his gaze even before he'd drawn near enough to draw the man's attention. Apparently he wasn't the only one developing a keen awareness, which suited him just fine.

Keeping their gazes locked for the small pleasure of the connection Arthur continued over, stopping in front of the seat opposite Eames. "May I join you?"

"You never need to ask, Darling, I assure you." Eames drawled out, delighted that Arthur had willingly sought him out.

Shrugging out of his coat, it was supposed to rain later, Arthur placed that over the chair and then set his bag under the table, trusting that Eames was capable of keeping it safe. "I'll be back then."

Watching the man walk off towards the buffet Eames grinned and then turned his attention back to his plate, wincing a little at the twinge that caused in his back. It was very apparent now that they brought a lot of their daily life or thoughts into the dreams, his sore body in this case, the forger acknowledged ruefully. Though he hadn't been laid low the way his dream-self had been the night before he had overdone it in the gym in the hopes of working off his energy and annoyance over the fact that he'd gotten so juvenile and peeved over Arthur's date with Ariadne. Which hadn't really even been a date, but his brain had refused to acknowledge that.

Stupid brain.

To distract himself from those thoughts, again, Eames turned his thoughts back to one of the other main ones that had been circling his brain since he'd woken, which was whether or not Arthur really was that experienced and skilled when it came to giving massages. Because if his darling was…well he wasn't getting any younger, and he'd messed up his body plenty in his young and dumber days playing sports and in the army. Having someone to act as his personal masseuse…oh baby.

A raised eyebrow was Arthur's only reaction when he came back to find Eames staring off into space, having obviously eaten very little since he'd left. He'd known the man too long to make the mistake of commenting though, simply taking his seat and unrolling his silverware.

"Darling?"

"Yes, Sweetie?" Arthur returned with sarcasm dripping off the endearment.

Amused by the response, Eames just grinned. "So the book and film you and Ariadne were talking about, is that where the setting of last night came from?"

Nodding his head Arthur outlined the general story while they ate their breakfast, the point man unknowingly making it clear that the character Eames had played the night before was his favorite of the film and the only reason he would ever consider watching the movie again as he'd really, really disliked the main character and had wished someone would just shoot the idiot so that bad things would stop happening to the characters he had liked.

Okay, now he definitely had to check out this movie, Eames decided with a grin. His curiosity was too piqued to do otherwise. Especially since he wanted to see what this Forrest guy was like when his own personality wasn't in play too.

"Should I ask what you have planned for tonight?" The gleam in the other man's eyes might not have anything to do with that, but Arthur was willing to bet he'd get the effects from it later on regardless.

He hadn't been thinking about it that way, about how much control they could have over their shared dreams now that they knew they were influencing them, Eames turned his attention to considering the possibilities with almost childlike glee. Perverted, childlike glee, the forger silently amended, the images coming to mind definitely not kiddish in any way, shape or form.

Rolling his eyes Arthur sighed, mentally kicking himself for putting the idea in the man's far too imaginative brain.

And it was the eye rolling that reminded Eames that Arthur would definitely know where to lay the blame if the dreams pushed the man out of his comfort zone, which made him rethink the plotlines his mind had been devising moments before.

Better to start out on familiar ground, figure out what their limitations were first before spicing things up a little more.

"How about we jointly try to finish that soldier dream?" Eames suggested after a few minutes of silent reflection. "We both said that that was the couple we most wanted to get together in the end, right? Well we could place the dream after the war, meet up somewhere like they-we planned."

Arthur understood how hard it was to remember they were just dreams, especially since they had the mental longevity of an actual memory. And since he had no objection to continuing that particular dream he agreed to the experiment, the two hammering out the basic circumstances as they ate.

They'd have to wait until that night to see how much control they actually had.

)

Their Dream

He ached all over from a hard day's work, but this was the sort of pain he was happy to live with. His side ached a little too, a lingering reminder of his crash, but altogether Eames figured he was a damn lucky bloke to have gotten off as easy as he had. He had all his limbs, and his mind was still whole though he imagined he'd always suffer from the flashbacks and occasional nightmare that haunted him. But that was a small price to pay for surviving a world war, and being able to come home to his loved ones and country wasn't a gift he'd ever take for granted.

A country that had been battered quite a bit thanks to that bloody war but still stood, proud and strong as ever, he added with pride, as that was how he spent his days now, not destroying but repairing, rebuilding the city of his birth.

Life was good…mostly.

Sighing deeply at the thought, one he couldn't escape or push to the back of his mind for long, Eames felt a pain that had nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the emotional.

He hadn't seen Lieutenant Arthur Blake since he'd left the Yank's unit to rejoin a British troop five days after the one and only time they'd made love. They'd tried to keep in touch with letters, never easy when you lived on the battlefield and were always moving, and in the last three months before the war had ended he'd heard nothing back from his man. He didn't know if Arthur was alive or dead, if he had been wounded and sent home or was a POW somewhere still…

Not knowing was driving him crazy.

But what could he do? It wasn't like he'd been high up enough as a soldier to make the kind of connections that would allow him to access the information he wanted or get someone to do it for him. And he didn't know how to track down Arthur's family either, to ask them whether they knew anything or not.

He hated feeling so bloody helpless like this.

"Oi, Eames, that you, lad?"

Turning his head Eames raised a hand in greeting. "It is. Good evening to you, Mr. Thomas."

"I was just talking about you, boy." The old man informed him as he approached, his cane echoing off the cobblestones. "Ran into my grandson earlier and he said how there was a Yank down at the pub asking around about you. Young fellow, said he was a friend of yours. My boy told him where you're staying now, hope that's all right."

"A Yank?" His entire bearing changing Eames could practically hear his heart beginning to pound, daring to hope. "Did he give a name?"

"I think he did…what did Will say the man's name was…it's on the tip of my tongue…." Brows scrunched up in thought Eames was about ready to jump out of his skin when the man finally snapped his gnarled fingers together. "Ah, I've got it then. It stuck with me, the irony of a Yank being named after one of our most famous kings. Arthur, he said, I'm sure of it."

"Arthur. And he knows where my place is?"

"Will told him, yes."

"Thank God. I've got to go now, thanks, Mr. Thomas!"

And without waiting for the good bye to be returned Eames ran off full out, not even feeling the aches or tiredness he'd experienced earlier as it was overrun with adrenaline and the desperate, consuming need to get to his place and Arthur.

)

He tried not to be disappointed to find that neither Arthur nor a note was waiting at his door, but the former made sense given the late hour, and maybe Arthur hadn't had paper on him. Usually the man was more organized than that though so maybe he hadn't been able to find the place in the first place. It was easy to get turned around when many of the street markers no longer stood and you didn't know the area. So he'd drop his stuff off, change out of his grubby clothes and then go to every inn and hotel in the area, Eames decided as he let himself in. Arthur would be close and even if he had to wake every innkeeper in the bloody district he'd do it.

He wasn't waiting.

Locking the door behind him, looters were a problem, Eames quickly shed his coat and shoes and then hurried through the small flat towards the bedroom, blinking in surprise when his overloaded mind clicked into the fact that his bedroom door was slightly open and light was coming from within.

Mind immediately emptying in the face of a possible threat Eames lifted his leg and retrieved the blade that he kept in a sheath there, fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt as he moved on soundless feet, nudging the bedroom door open with his foot, body tense and ready to lash out.

The way he'd angled the bed in the corner, so that no one entered without his knowing, Eames saw immediately that his guest-

Arthur.

The man curled up under his covers may have lost even more weight, years of age added to his once young face, but he would know his Yank no matter what the man looked like.

Walking over to the bed on unstable legs that threatened to give out on him Eames ditched the knife on his dresser before slowly lowered his weight so that he sat on the side of the bed, reaching out to stroke fingers gently over the other man's cheek, his heart jumping into his throat when Arthur's eyes suddenly flashed open to meet his, wariness and fear there for a second, replaced quickly with recognition.

"Eames."

Unable to speak Eames leaned down and pressed his lips against Arthur's, sighing with relief and love when the kiss was immediately returned, one of the hands he remembered so well coming up as Arthur's fingers slid into his hair to hold him close.

Slow, lingering kisses followed, Eames finally pulling back so that he could place kisses along Arthur's jawline before burying his face against the side of the man's neck, breathing in his scent like a drowning victim drew in fresh air. "You're really here."

"Your grandmother let me in." Was Arthur's soft reply as he concentrated on stroking Eames's hair, soft contentment in his voice. "She found me sitting outside your door, tried to chase me off. When I explained I was waiting for you and gave her my name she insisted on feeding me and then let me in here to get some sleep until you got home. I'm to tell you that you're to bring me by her place with you tomorrow as I desperately need fattening up."

"Sounds like a plan to me." And wanting to see for himself that his man had escaped the war without any major injuries Eames forced himself to lift his head to steal one more kiss before sitting up. "I'll join you in there in a second, I'm just going to lose these filthy clothes first."

"No need to replace them with others on my account."

A rakish grin crossed Eames's lips as he nodded his head in acknowledgement. "You can lose yours as well."

As the only reason he'd stayed fully dressed was to stay warm Arthur had no problem putting his fingers to the task of undoing the buttons of his shirt. He knew that Eames's grandmother hadn't been wrong that he needed to gain some weight, and he was vain enough to be supremely annoyed that he was never at his physical best around Eames, but the war had taught him well the truth of carpe diem and he was once again going to seize the moment.

He'd found Eames again, against all odds. He wasn't going to waste this chance any more than he'd wasted the other.

Having done away with his clothes as quickly as possible, deliberately not looking in Arthur's direction so he wouldn't get distracted, Eames turned back to see the man holding up the covers for him, both inviting him in and making it clear that he'd shed all his clothing as well.

Not wasting a second he quickly got under the covers as well, drawing Arthur into his arms as he reclaimed his lover's mouth, Eames groaned in pleasure as their bodies fit together, naked flesh finally being given the chance to meet as they held each other close.

Running his hands over Arthur's back he felt the irregularities, processing the difference in texture in thin grooves with a sharp pain is his chest.

"Shrapnel?"

Opening his eyes Arthur nodded, his own hands continuing to stroke. "I was lucky, it brushed past me instead of directly into me."

Having seen more times than he cared to count what flying shrapnel could do to the human body Eames immediately turned his attention back to snogging his man with a great deal more heat and desire than moments before, driven by the thought of how close he'd come to never getting the chance to kiss and hold the man pressed up against him again.

Equally spurred on Arthur rolled them over, wanting Eames's weight on him as he opened his legs so that the Englishman could better settle between them, bringing up his knees to rub his lower legs against Eames's.

Recognizing the invitation Eames smiled but wasn't about to be rushed. Last time there'd been no choice, their lovemaking over almost before it had begun because they'd been surrounded by others and it technically hadn't been the time or the place for such things.

But they were in his bed now, all alone and with nothing stopping them from spending the whole night making love to the other except their own bodies, which weren't exactly in peak condition at the moment but to hell with that.

He had ever confidence that they were both stubborn enough to hold out much longer than their bodies would like.

And so once he'd thoroughly kissed and explored Arthur's mouth Eames started to move down his lover's body, learning where the man liked to be touched and kissed, loving each new discovery and the feel of that body doing its level best to keep him close and doing what he was doing.

"Eames…Eames we have all night." Arthur grounded out, the way the man was toying with his nipple with his tongue driving him crazy. "Take your time next time. It's been so long since we…I'm not going to last long." Which was humiliating to admit since he prided himself on his control, but he seemed to lose that pretty quick where Eames was concerned.

Hating to admit that Arthur had a point, he was well aware of just how wound up he already was, Eames sighed but gave in, forcing himself to leave the bed and Arthur long enough to find some lubricant before returning to his lover's arms, ridiculously pleased at the way Arthur's arms immediately latched onto him to keep him there.

Ignoring the way Eames was grinning at him like an idiot, the idiot, Arthur turned all his attention to his own body, forcing it to relax and accept each of the other man's fingers in turn as Eames put his calloused fingertips to very stimulating use, driving him that much closer to the edge as the minutes passed.

Withdrawing his fingers only after Arthur demanded that he do so because the other man couldn't take anymore, Eames smiled even through the strain of holding himself together. But he didn't have to much longer, he thought as he reached down to place the other man's legs on his shoulders, bending Arthur's body for his enjoyment as he reached between them.

Fingers frantically flexing at his sides Arthur couldn't muffle his low cries as he felt Eames slowly enter him, still treating him so gently even though he could see the strain on the man's face and muscles as Eames restrained himself. It drove him a little crazy, to be wanted and cared for so much.

And then they were joined and moving, lost in each other and the felling of no longer being empty after so very long.

"Stay with me." Eames murmured towards the end, sweat running off both their bodies as they panted for air and each other.

A smile curving his lips Arthur knew what the man meant, but he chose to interpret it another way as he moved his hands up so that they cradled Eames's face.

"I'll always stay with you."


	14. In Rome

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the general plot. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

In Rome

Heading down the carpeted hallway Arthur's eyes scanned the space for inconsistencies or possible threats, approving of Ariadne's attention to detail in that the hallway did look like it could existence at any high scale hotel without any of the embellishments the girl hadn't been able to resist adding to her dreams in the beginning. It was always hard to rein yourself in when you first got started, becoming almost a god in a world that you could command and bend to your will.

Unlike Dom and countless others he'd met in his current profession Arthur wasn't addicted to that ego trip. He didn't need to be a god; he just needed control over himself and his choices. And since he was very good at controlling his real world he didn't need the dream world the way the others so often did.

Though his control was slipping a lot lately thanks to Eames.

Sighing, Arthur had to smile ruefully, acknowledging that he actually didn't mind so much, how much the Englishman was currently messing with his head. The benefits outweighed the costs, and would only grow once this job was over and they could see for themselves just how much the other lived up to their dream self.

Oh God but was he looking forward to that.

How much he was looking forward to it was also a problem, he acknowledged, since he didn't like needing anyone or anything. When your happiness depended on a human being you were screwed. Trying to control the human heart was a pointless endeavor, one that only came back to bite you on your ass from what he'd seen. But more and more he needed to be around Eames, even if it was just to brush up against him for a second while walking, or moving closer to hear him speak no matter what he was talking about. The sexual urges he could explain away, but the rest spoke of another kind of bond that was foreign to him in practice, but of which he'd seen enough to know the symptoms.

And that did not bode well for him.

Shaking his head at the thought Arthur punched the button for the elevator, so lost in thought that for that crucial moment he forgot to be on his guard and automatically stepped forward when the doors opened.

There was nothing below his foot.

Arthur didn't have time to try and throw himself backward, he went tumbling down the empty shaft with multiple swear words passing his lips.

Refusing to learn what it was like to wake up after being broken to bits at the bottom of an elevator shaft Arthur twisted and maneuvered his body until he managed to grasp a section of the wall some thirty feet down. The jerking action had pain coursing up his arm, but he knew how to push that aside and work through it.

Finding a handhold for his other hand Arthur took a steadying, calming breath and then slowly began altering the walls of the shaft to provide him with more handholds that would allow him to climb back up to the top.

He didn't want to risk drawing attention to his presence within the dream if he didn't have to, so he kept it simple.

So making his way up slowly, checking every handhold before using it just in case, Arthur was about half way to his goal when he heard the doors above him opening once more.

"Don't enter the elevator!"

)

Jerking back automatically at the words, instincts kicking in, Eames stood in front and then forced the closing doors open again, holding them as he looked down the shaft, all the color draining from his face as he took in the sight of Arthur clinging to the wall with the darkness of a very long drop underneath the point man. Because even though there was a voice in his head reminding him that this wasn't real he couldn't quite wrap the rest of his mind around it.

"Arthur! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

"Don't even think of climbing down here or altering the dream." Arthur ordered as he continued to climb up like it was no big deal, his voice so calm and in control that Eames felt himself relaxing a little in spite of himself. "I've got this."

Trying to distract himself from the situation Eames knelt down, using his broad shoulders to keep the doors open while he watched every move Arthur made, heart in his throat the whole time. And as soon as Arthur was in his reach he held his hands out, watching as the man hesitated for a second and then put first one hand in his and then the other.

Once he was sure he had a firm grip Eames slowly stood up, bringing Arthur up with him. And when it was safe to do so he let one hand go before swiftly wrapping that arm around Arthur's waist, bringing the man tight against his chest. That accomplished Eames spun them out of the doorway and back into the hallway so that the elevator doors slammed shut once more behind Eames's back.

"You have excellent upper body strength."

Burying his face against the side of Arthur's neck, Eames couldn't even tell the other man not to joke at a time like this. He was too busy squeezing the stuffing out of the point man and thanking God that this hadn't been reality and that Arthur really was safe.

"Eames…I'm okay."

"I'm bloody well not so shut up and let me hug you."

He expected Arthur to give him a lecture about how he was being an idiot, at the moment he wouldn't have cared since hearing the man chew him up would have been more proof that Arthur really was okay, so when the man's arms came around him to hold him back Eames didn't know what to do.

So he just kept hugging Arthur until the other man demanded that he be turned loose.

"And don't tell Dom about this. We're stuck doing this job and his confidence is shaky as it is."

Keeping his arms loosely around Arthur's waist Eames took a calming breath, pressing their foreheads together. "Understood."

)

Their Dream

With the hot water lapping pleasantly over his bare skin Arthur closed his eyes, wishing it was just as easy to close his mind and the thoughts that dwelled there. That he was so depressed lately angered him, he had nothing to be melancholy about after all. He was the son of the emperor, by the gods, and even though his Celt mother was his father's favorite concubine, not wife, he still lived a wealthy, privileged life in the country as a result. He had land, station, and servants to see to his every need-curses!

As always that a little voice in the back of his mind whispered that he could take what he wanted, thus ending the cause of his dark moods. No one would stop or condemn him for it.

But that would require him to act dishonorably, and that he would not do.

He would not use his power to force another to become his lover.

So instead he was stuck seeing the object of his desire day after day, having only himself to blame since he was the one who had made the fierce Celt his bodyguard in the first place.

Which meant, Arthur acknowledged grimly, that on top of desiring the man so much he awoke sweaty and frustrated every day, he also had to worry about Eames dying for him because the man took his job very seriously these days. Eames felt he owed him a great debt and wouldn't even hear of being smuggled back to his country until he'd repaid that debt somehow.

Groaning at the thought Arthur let himself slip under the water, his mind turning to how he'd come to technically own the man in the first place.

He generally avoided the capital, finding it too depraved and moral-less for his tastes. You didn't ever want to get him started on his opinion of the Coliseum, which had the added irony of that being the evil place where he'd first caught sight of his new bodyguard. The man had been a soldier in his country, a well known one who'd been captured and brought back to Rome due to that reputation. He'd been made a gladiator and had quickly become infamous there, both for his fighting prowess and the fact that he refused to service the women and men who'd paid to bed him. He might not have spoken their language, but apparently he'd made his disgust and disinterest in them clear nonetheless.

To a degree that they'd actually left rather than face such disgusted fury.

And it had been a combination of the man's strength and physical prowess that had made his own half-brother interested in making the gladiator's acquaintance in the worst possible way.

Personally he'd been ordered by his father to attend the Coliseum with his older brother and a few others that day, the old man foolish enough to believe that if he spent some quality time with Marcus the man would stop trying to maim or kill him whenever the opportunity presented itself. So he'd been stuck in a box listening to the plans his pain loving brother intended to inflict on the gladiator, thinking that purchasing and breaking the impudent Celt would be a challenge 'worthy' of him.

It had been a mixture of basic compassion and hatred for his brother that had caused him to slip out while the others drank, seeking out Eames's owner and negotiating to buy the Celt before his brother had the chance to get ahold of him.

If not for the fact that he'd identified himself as the emperor's son Arthur imagined the man would have never sold Eames to him, but he was in very good standing with his father and the slave master had feared the repercussions if he refused him.

So he'd taken Eames home with him the next day, knowing better than to hang around as his brother had hit the roof so to speak when he'd learned what he'd done. It hadn't been easy getting Eames to behave either, but his mother had taught him her tongue so at least he'd been able to communicate with the Celt. With time and effort he'd made Eames believe that he would never abuse or use him, and they'd settled into a truce of sorts.

And he'd figured out that he wanted to be used by the handsome, tribal tattoo covered man pretty quick once the man had stopped looking at him like he wanted to kill him. He hadn't pursued him though, never betraying his interest. By law Eames belonged to him, and if he made his interest known the former soldier might see it as a requirement, destroying their sort of friendship.

That he couldn't bear.

Surfacing as he'd run out of air Arthur angrily slapped at his bath water in a childish show of aggravation.

And while Arthur took his anger out on the water he remained unaware of the fact that he was no longer alone, someone now watching in the shadows, both hiding from him and watching over him. He couldn't see anything from where he was, Eames silently reasoned with a faint smirk, but his 'master' tended to get very angry if he interrupted him while he was less than fully dressed.

Which was a pity as he enjoyed that view quite a bit, not that he'd ever admit such a thing out loud.

Logically he knew that what he needed to do was to take a lover, Arthur mused once he was done his small tantrum, settling back down. He needed to quench his desire in the arms of another man he was free to know in that way. But the idea of using someone else that way, as a stand in, turned his stomach, especially since he knew he wouldn't be satisfied even then. His body was very specific in its craving, only Eames would do.

In his mind's eye he could visualize the other man so perfectly, all that toned, golden flesh, so beautifully sculpted and somehow enhanced by the battle scars and tattoos that marked his torso. And those seductive, bewitching eyes, lethal when paired with sensual, full lips that made him want to beg for a taste, for the pleasure of having them close around the erection that plagued him so in the man's company.

That plagued him now, Arthur acknowledged as he slid a hand down his wet chest and under the water, wrapping his fingers around his aching flesh, moaning long and low at the pleasure/pain of it.

Bracing one hand on the back of the bath for support Arthur bit down hard on his bottom lips as he concentrated on bringing himself to climax, well aware of the fact that in between pants and groans of pleasure he murmured or cried out the former gladiator's name in desperate need. By the gods he spent far too much time doing this in order to stay somewhat sane, relieving himself with his own hand, imagining that it was Eames's fingers wrapped around him, stroking him. And he could see, so perfectly in his mind, what it would be like to be able to caress the man's flesh and make him moan and plead for more too, to pleasure Eames to the point where he stayed for him, not out of debt or duty.

Just the thought of it was enough to drive Arthur mad with desire, unaware that he was doing the same to the other man in the room.

)

As always it was Eames's name he called when Arthur came minutes later, the pleasure flowing through his system like the hottest of lava as he shuddered and moaned his release.

Yet far too soon the pleasure faded, replaced by the emptiness that always haunted him at such times when he was faced with the knowledge that he would never know his Celt the way he desired.

Cursing that fact with all his heart, Arthur got out of the bath, knowing it would neither relax nor soothe him to remain there. There would be no peaceful slumber tonight either.

His bare feet slapping against the tiles floor, Arthur had just picked up a length of cloth to dry himself off with when he felt a familiar shiver run up his spine, his whole body going on alert as he slowly turned so that he was facing towards the cause of his sudden awareness.

Situated in a shadowed corner, nearly blending in with the darkness, Arthur could just make out the other man's shape, heat flaring into his stomach even as he mentally panicked like a mad man, not knowing how long Eames had been there. He had not muffled his reactions, so lost had he been in what he was doing-how could Eames not have heard him?

"What…what are you doing in here?" He didn't bother to point out that this was one of his personal rooms and therefore not to be entered without his permission. Eames wasn't big on rules unless he was making them.

"You called for me."

Opening his mouth to say that no, he hadn't, the words died a quick death in Arthur's throat as he swallowed hard. Because as the man walked towards him, so much the predator in his every step, Arthur knew that Eames hadn't been talking about a normal summoning.

His words had deserted him, Arthur realized dimly, and the man's eyes had rooted him to the spot he currently occupied like he'd just had the misfortune to look into the eyes of Medusa.

Stopping when he was close enough to touch Eames slowly raised a hand to cup Arthur's cheek, fingers splaying out to cradle gently as he repeated his early words, his eyes conveying that he would not make another move unless the other man admitted to his desire.

"I…I called for you. Always you." Arthur forced out, gasping when he suddenly found himself being jerked into the man's arms, belatedly recalling his nakedness for a moment before his mind was wiped clear by the lips that took possession of his while the man's large hands turned to the task of hoisting him up so that he wrapped his legs around the man's waist automatically.

Drawing back once he'd kissed the man thoroughly Eames shifted his attention to Arthur's throat, marking the pale column as his while demanding that the other man tell him how much he wanted him and what he wanted him to do to him.

And hopeless to do otherwise Arthur complied, moaning his need and desires in a low, husky voice that seemed to echo in both their ears as he arched and rubbed up against Eames in a manner that couldn't be misunderstood.

)

Jerking awake with a low cry of need, Arthur automatically turned his head towards the noise that had yanked him out of the dream, some part of his brain recognizing the sound as that of his door being knocked on. It was so late though, he thought after glancing in the direction of his bedside clock. Who could-Eames. Maybe it was Eames, Arthur realized as he threw his covers off and was hurry across the room before his brain could catch up with his need. His body still burned for the man and all he could think about was continuing where they'd left off, consequences be damned.

Unlocking the door he opened it without checking to see who it was, the anticipation and need in his eyes dying a total death the moment he saw why was standing in front of his door, tired, shattered eyes meeting his without really even seeing him.

Dom.

Stepping aside to let the other man pass Arthur closed the door behind his partner, no explanation needed. They had this routine down pat, though Dom had been doing really well the last couple months. The pressure of what they'd be doing shortly was probably a factor, the other man reacting to the coming job and the trouble Mal would no doubt cause.

Sighing, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, Arthur walked back over to his usual side of the bed, climbing into it and settling in on his side facing Dom.

"I miss her so much."

"I know you do. Now go back to sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

Reaching out Arthur started to rhythmically stroke Dom's hair, soothing him back to sleep as he tried not to think of the person he was longing for as much as his partner longed for his wife.

Which was a very…very unnerving thought to have.


	15. Bite Me

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Bite Me

Leaning back in his chair Eames patiently waited for Dom and Arthur to quit squabbling. He was tempted to go over there and see what was going on, do a little eavesdropping, but Arthur had given him a look earlier that had indicated that would definitely not be in his best interest. Besides, they were probably arguing over the fact that Dom had come in that morning to say that Arthur was taking the day off due to overworking, only to have the man turn up fifteen minutes ago looking decidedly peeved that it was just after lunch and NO ONE had bothered to wake him up.

His current theory was that Dom must have slipped the man something to force Arthur to take a break, that would be the only way to make his man rest after all, and Arthur had thrown off the effects sooner than expected. It would explain why the dream had gotten wonky half way through the night before too.

"Eames?"

Turning his head Eames raised a querying eyebrow in Ariadne's direction, especially since moments before she'd been subtly hovering near the arguing partners to try and get the lowdown on what was going on. She looked troubled now, which didn't bode well for all involved. "What's up, Pet?"

Hunkering down beside his chair so that she wasn't really visible to anyone because of his bulk, Ariadne forced herself not to fidget as she met his curious gaze. "Uhm…I was just wondering if…you've known Dom for a really long time, right?"

"Years, yes." And guessing at her worry Eames reached out to pat her head reassuringly. "No worries about those two, Ariadne. They might not fight as regularly as Arthur and I do, but they've always been a bit of a married couple as Mal used to say."

"Were they ever lovers?"

When Eames gaped at her like a landed trout Ariadne turned red and stumbled over her words. "It's just I know Arthur's bi and I was listening over there and it sounded…well it sounded like they were and I was just wondering because if they are…I just wanted to know."

"What exactly did they say?" Straightening up in his seat Eames focused all his attention on her.

And taken aback, she wasn't used to Eames having such a commanding, penetrating stare, Ariadne immediately spilled her guts, telling him how Dom had said to Arthur that it was his fault the man hadn't gotten any sleep the night before and that that was why he hadn't woken him up. How Arthur had shot back that he could decide for himself when his body was too worn out to go to work, thank you very much. Further into the argument Dom had snapped at Arthur and had promised that he wouldn't be visiting his hotel room anytime soon, and Arthur had crossed his arms and leaning in had whispered something in the other man's ear that had actually made Dom blush.

Her words whirling around in his head like mini tornadoes, destroying every other thought in their path, Eames whipped his head around to study the two more closely, unaware that when his eyes landed on Dom they took on a decidedly violent edge.

Arthur wasn't the type to cheat though, and what was left of his logical brain clung to that fact. The fact that they weren't actually dating now due to the job-

Fuck.

Forcing himself to control his features as he made them settle into a neutral expression, Eames turned his attention back to Ariadne, giving her the best smile he was up to. "I can't say for sure…but in all the years I've known the two of them I've never seen anything to make me think they were or are lovers."

But he couldn't help but remember that the two men had been mistaken for a couple any number of times over the years by others.

Dammit.

Hell, people were dumb, Eames reminded himself, deliberately recalling all the times he and Mal had been mistaken as a couple too when he'd partnered up with Arthur and the Cobbs. He and Mal had always looked good together, which had driven Dom nuts back in the day, especially whenever he'd come to visit his friend after her mental breakdown. They'd always gotten along well, him and Mal, her sense of humor had been as warped as his own after all. He'd been good at bringing her out of her moods and that had made Dom doubly jealous, not to mention prone to blaming himself that much more for Mal's condition.

Poor bastard.

A new possibility slipping into his conscious thoughts, Eames told himself that Dom would never use sex to try and tie Arthur to him, and even if he were to try that Cobb couldn't possibly be Arthur's type if he himself was. He and Dom didn't have that much in common after all. It wasn't like Arthur would go so far as to sleep with someone he didn't want for the good of the team either, and would shoot anyone who suggested otherwise.

Which was comforting…sort of.

Because that still didn't explain what Ariadne had overheard and if he questioned Arthur about it he'd get in trouble. He knew it.

So he was stuck, dammit.

)

Their Dream

Hands jammed deep in his pockets, Eames was in one hell of a bad mood and those he passed didn't bother to call out greetings to him as they knew he wasn't to be messed with when he was like this. The man really didn't like Master Blake, they thought to themselves, lounging about as they either waited for their own masters or mistresses to call for them or some amusement to strike them. They'd all already been out into the city to take their fill of blood for the night, the contentment that came with that making them all mellow.

Either Eames hadn't fed before he'd come, which would get him in a lot of trouble, or the man's mood was so dark not even a belly full of blood could soothe him.

Well aware of their whispered comments, vampire hearing made eavesdropping ridiculously easy, Eames blocked their words out, knowing that he'd snap in a very bloody way if given the slightest push.

And it was all HIS fault.

Master Arthur Blake was not of their coven, the snotty bastard was only visiting as an ambassador from America. Normally his mistress was Lady Mallory, who was delicate and could only feed from a vampire such as him who had strong mental shields and therefore didn't mentally affect her or vice versa. She suffered from depression so anything he could do, whether it be his dead on impressions of people she knew or his stupid jokes, he was happy to do it. He was also her bodyguard, and he took his job seriously.

Lord Cobb, his lady's wife, didn't like their closeness though, and so had decided to give him to the Yank for the duration of his stay. It was an order he had to obey as he wasn't a Pureblood like his lord, lady, and Blake. They'd been born vampires, while he'd been turned a couple decades back. And it was the duty of those turned to cater to the purebloods, acting as their go-betweens with the human world.

He'd never minded his job before, the way some did, because his shields meant he felt nothing when someone fed from him and he'd never had a bad master or mistress.

Until Blake.

Because somehow, and he'd empty his bank account to find out, his shields didn't work properly where the Yank was concerned.

It wouldn't be a problem if Blake was a painful feeder, they got special pets who were into that, or a freezing one which wasn't pleasant, apparently, but more than bearable. There were three types of feeders when it came to purebloods, the designation referring to the reaction they caused in their food source when they bit. They could make it hurt like hell, make you feel nothing…or make it feel so good you could climax from the pleasure of it. It all depended on what they preferred their blood to be flavored with.

His shields had always meant he felt nothing…and now he was fighting back climaxing like his life depended upon it every time the prat's fangs sunk into his throat.

Groaning at the thought, and his desire for it, Eames was tempted to stop and bash his head against a wall for a bit.

But he couldn't be late, or he'd get a lecture on top of the smirk Blake often wore after a feeding, well aware of the reaction he caused but not saying anything about it…just smirking that little smirk of his.

Argh!

Thank God the prat always insisted on feeding from him from behind because the pureblood never gave anyone his back if he could help it. The man's overly cautious nature meant that he never saw the no doubt humiliating faces he made as he stifled his reactions, which was a small blessing. He'd made a fool out of himself the first time as it was, unable to control his shock and pleasure because he hadn't been expecting it.

Rounding the corner Eames came to a grinding halt, blinking hard as he took in the scene in front of him.

The man he'd come to see stood in the hallway, though he definitely wasn't alone. The woman with him had her arms wrapped around the pureblood and she was kissing a line up Blake's neck.

And because of his super hearing he could hear the words she was whispering in the man's ear, which was a detailed description of what sort of services she was offering besides providing blood.

Over his dead body.

He didn't even think about it, he marched over and reaching between them pulled them apart, the two so shocked by his reaction that they didn't even think to stop him.

Getting between them Eames glared coldly down at the woman, who hissed and showed her fangs to make it clear she'd regained her momentum and was pissed that he'd interrupted.

"He's MY master. Lord Dominic assigned me to him. You can go."

It was plain she wanted to argue, but just as obvious that she knew she didn't want to get on Eames's bad side either. He was Lady Cobb's favorite after all, and the pureblood's sanity was precarious at best. It wasn't wise to cross her these days. "I heard you wished to return to your previous assignment…my mistake." She gave him one last dark look before turning her eyes to the pureblood who had yet to comment, her voice taking on a decided purr. "You have my card if you would like company after you feed, Master."

Bowing won't get you anywhere, Eames thought nastily as she did so. She didn't have breasts worth ogling even if the Yank were the type to peek, which he wasn't.

"Thank you, Vanessa. Good night."

Scowling, he didn't like Blake talking to her, Eames marched over to the door to the man's quarters and opened it, gesturing for the cocky ass to get his ass inside.

Cocky son of a bitch, this British bastard, Arthur thought as he considered refusing, or better yet calling the woman back and ordering Eames from his sight. He was in charge after all, though the halfling seemed to think differently. The man needed to be put in his place by somebody, no question.

So Arthur headed into his assigned rooms, more than ready to dress the man down for his behavior.

Closing the door sharply behind them Eames glared at the man who watched him with those dark, dismissive eyes that said he was all but dirt beneath his feet. He hated purebloods like this, who thought because they'd been born vampires they were somehow better. Calling him and those like him halflings, like they were only half as good as the purebloods were. He was just as strong, just as fast. So what if he didn't heal as fast or live quite as long…he was not less, dammit.

"So you have to pay women to have sex with you…why does that not surprise me?"

A raised eyebrow was the other man's only reaction. "If you'd started eavesdropping earlier she was offering to sleep with me simply for the pleasure of it. I have about as much interest in whores as you do fashion."

Ignoring the jab about his clothes, Blake was obviously obsessed with clothes to an unhealthy degree, Eames continued to scowl at him. "And the fact that you were all set to sleep with a woman you've never met until now…."

Getting the implication just fine Arthur had to force back a snarl. It was bad enough that he was once again stuck in the room with the badly dressed halfling without losing his cool on top of it. But dammit, he'd been fighting his desire for the man since their first meeting and if he had to listen to the man struggle not to orgasm up against him one more time he was going to lose it, tie the idiot to his bed, and taken what he wanted and to hell with the consequences.

Hence the being remotely receptive to what the girl had been offering.

He hadn't been this sexually frustrated since he'd been young, and that was so long ago he wasn't even a hundred percent sure he'd been this frustrated then.

"Feel free to let the door hit you on the way out. I'll call Vanessa back. She'll take over for you from now on."

"To hell with that!" And riding on emotions he'd been pretending he didn't have Eames moved forward with blurring speed, yanking the other man up against his chest as he pressed his lips against Arthur's in a forceful, passionate kiss.

His mouth having dropped open in shock at the man's audacity Arthur reacted instinctively, deliberately moving his head so that he could scrape a fang along the man's tongue when it dared to seek entrance between his lips. But that caused blood to well up and as the taste registered the older vampire couldn't help but groan and change tactics, sucking on Eames's tongue instead so that not a drop would be wasted as he shuddered with pleasure.

Nobody tasted better than this man to him.

Not about to waste time Eames moved his hands to grab handfuls of fabric, literally ripping Arthur's shirt to shred so that it fell to the floor in tattered rags.

Head immediately snapping back Arthur snarled his fury. "That. Was. Armani!"

"Fuck it."

And on that note Eames moved his hands to place them on Arthur's hips right before he literally threw the man across the room.

Landing on the bed in a crouch, Arthur's head whipped up with another snarl that died off abruptly as he registered the fact that Eames's jacket and shirt had just hit the floor. The sight of the younger man's naked torso was enough to distract him long enough for the Brit to do away with his shoes and socks.

A thoughtful look coming into his eyes Arthur licked his lips. "You better be worth the price of that shirt, Mr. Eames, or you're going to be the one in a tattered heap on the floor."

"I'll take my chances."

Ready for it this time Arthur waited until Eames pounced before displaying his own strength and speed, slamming the man onto the bed with him on top, the force of it finishing off the bed that had been damaged moments before. Neither noticed as it began to crack and shudder before giving out beneath them as they fought for domination over the other, the mattress cushioning their fall as they quickly turned their attention to mercilessly shredding each other's clothing as they sought the skin beneath the material.

Deliberately they both drew blood, scraping their teeth and nails across the other's flesh in shallow cuts so that they could lap up the blood, thus keeping the seductive, primal taste of their lover in their mouths to fan the flames and remind them of what was to come. There was no tenderness in their actions, but slowly the mood changed as the anger was replaced by a chemistry that had them both reeling, making them more giving as their bodies learned each other and sought more contact.

Finally pinning the older vampire down, no easy task, Eames forcefully pressed the man's arms up against the broken headboard. "Keep your hands there."

Wrapping his fingers around the bed's spindles Arthur deliberately squeezed and splintered them into toothpicks, tossing them aside before reaching out to grab Eames's head. "No." He growled, bringing the other man's head back down to his so that he could ravish those lush lips once more.

"Stubborn Pureblood."

"Impudent Halfling."

"I'll show you impudent."

Pulling back to trail kissed down the man's chest, Eames didn't look up to meet the other man's gaze until his lips had started to curve down his 'master's' inner thigh. Then he looked up for one hot glance before sinking his fangs into the man's femoral artery to feast, wrapping one hand around Arthur's erection to squeeze in time with his drinking to increase the pleasure.

And that was all it took, the pureblood coming fast and hard minutes later as he cried out his release, shuddering with the strength of the climax before relaxing into the bed, not putting up a fight or even opening his eyes when Eames's fangs left his flesh, the man's tongue coming out to seal the small wounds before Eames began kissing his way back up Arthur's body.

Once he reached Arthur's lips Eames concentrated on stealing kisses while one of his wet fingers traced the tight ring of muscle he wished to enter, surprised to find it very receptive to first one and then three fingers.

"I tried to take the edge off before you came tonight." Arthur explained, opening his eyes to half mast. "I can take you now, so do it. I want to feast on you as well."

More than eager to be feasted on Eames nodded and quickly took possession of the man's willing body, doing some groaning and cursing of his own as he learned what pleasure there was to be had within the tight ass's pretty arse as he thrusted in and out of it, his strokes deep and powerful as he sought mastery over the body that possessed him so perfectly. That he was being allowed to do so, the older vampire watching him with such challenging surrender in his eyes, drove him that much closer to the edge with dizzying speed, totally drunk on the man's blood burning through his system like the most addicting of drugs, making him crave Blake's fangs in his throat more than his next meal.

And when Arthur finally moved in to sink his own fangs into Eames's flesh to drink the halfling decided that maybe, just maybe, climaxes of this magnitude were worth putting up with the arrogant Yank.

Okay…make that definitely.


	16. Bare Bodies

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters end up in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's the way of it.

Bare Bodies

His back braced against his bed's headboard, Eames did his best to try and regulate his body without a whole lot of success to show for it. His heart was pounding like mad in his chest, his pulse was frantic, and regulating his breathing was proving impossible. And you'd think, Eames silently fumed at himself, you'd think that after a climax of that magnitude, dream or not, his body would be too damn tired to remain so riled up and ready for more.

But no…hell, he was already getting hard again just thinking about it.

Not to mention the fact that he had no idea how he was going to face Arthur in the morning. The dream choices had been his, and though Arthur might have influenced some of it…the bulk of the blame was going to fall on his shoulders, he just knew it.

The sex had been…raw and primitive and so not what he'd expected. Not that he hadn't thought Arthur had that kind of passion in him, Eames acknowledged with a wide grin, but he'd never imagined that angry sex between them would rock his world as thoroughly as they'd destroyed that bloody bed.

And unable not to play it all back in his mind, again, Eames was so lost in his thoughts that he would have missed the two knocks at his door if not for how hard they were.

Looks like Arthur had decided not to wait until morning to let him have it.

Since a bad guy wouldn't knock Eames didn't bother to retrieve his gun from under his pillow, trusting that his own body would be dangerous enough if his late night visitor proved to be someone other than his favorite point man. Instead he simply retrieved the pajama bottoms he now kept on his bedside table, having decided a while ago that there was no point in wearing them and getting them dirty every night thanks to the dreams.

Stepping into them Eames didn't bother with anything else, turning on a lamp as he walked past it to provide some light before heading to the door. Not bothering to check the spyhole the forger unlocked and then opened the door.

"You didn't check to see who it was first. That's sloppy."

Doing his best to hide the fact that his body was going nuts Eames simply opened the door wider, motioning for Arthur to come in as he explained. "I knew of a guy who was killed because he looked through one of those. The murdering bastard shot him through the eye. No loss to the world, either of them, but a lesson to remember all the same."

Closing the door behind him Eames locked it again just in case before turning to face Arthur, his next words never getting the chance to be spoken as he suddenly found himself pressed back against the door he'd just closed as Arthur slanted their mouths together in a hot, possessive kiss.

Immediately falling in line with this decision Eames eagerly wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist while molding their bodies together. And that completed Eames quickly turned his attention to kissing the man back, using his tongue to demand entrance so that he could deepen it even further.

Some seriously passionate kissing followed, both men making thoroughly explorations of the other's mouth with very few stops in between for air.

When that wasn't enough Eames broke off the kiss to place quick, open mouth kisses along Arthur's jaw and over his face while his hands tugged up the shirt covering his lover's upper body, the two breaking away just long enough to do away with the garment before slamming back together again.

And when the heavy making out got to the point where he was seriously thinking about dragging the other man to the floor, Arthur deliberately tugged at the sides of Eames's pajama bottoms to her his lover's attention. "Bedroom."

More than willing to go along with that idea Eames allowed the point man to untangle their bodies, joining him in walking towards the bedroom area, the layout of their rooms identical.

When they were almost at the bed Arthur deliberately pushed the pants he wore off his hips, letting the material pool at his feet before stepping out of them, naked now as he crooking a finger at Eames to indicate they should get back to what they'd been doing earlier.

Though it was probably incredibly stupid of him, Eames couldn't help but comment as he realized something. "You came here without socks or shoes on."

Color lining his cheekbones as he looked down at his feet and then up again, Arthur couldn't believe that he'd done that. What if someone had seen him? And for that matter he was wearing his night clothes and his hair was probably a mess and his cheek would have pillow creases and-

Loving the man's reaction, he could all but see what Arthur was thinking, the man's expressions were that hilarious, Eames laughed and then tackled the smaller man onto the bed, shutting off Arthur's curses with his mouth as he once again distracted his lover to the best of his ability.

As before kissing soon wasn't enough, Eames deliberately turning on the bedside lamp because he wanted to see Arthur clearly and vice versa. The view was definitely one he wanted to memorize, the forger thought as his eyes raked down the length of the long, lean body he was going to make his.

Appreciating the view as well Arthur eagerly ran his hands over the tanned, inked flesh, rubbing up against the taunt muscles that flexed against his own. He was definitely going to make a thorough exploration of every inch on the man's body later, when they'd both taken the edge off.

The electricity and chemistry between them was almost a physical presence in the room, egging them on as they rolled around on the bed with reckless need while hands and mouths sought flesh. Eames's pajama bottoms were hastily done away with as well, the fact that they were finally naked together making it clear to them both that this was very real.

On top for the moment Eames took advantage of the position to place some very careful bites in some strategic places on his lover's body, wanting to leave his mark on the man's torso. They wouldn't show while the man was fully dressed, but anyone seeing Arthur unclothed would know he belonged to someone else. Belonged to him.

Normally he would have been pissed off by the fact that he just knew Eames was giving him hickies, but Arthur couldn't help but think that Eames must be doing it as a show of possession, which he found incredibly sexy for some strange reason.

So of course he had to return the favor, only he marked the man's neck since no one would think it strange for the forger to have a hickie or two. But they'd both know who'd given it to him and that would be good enough, Arthur thought smugly, taking Eames's low growl of pleasure as agreement.

)

Once they'd both finished thoroughly marked their territory with mouths and teeth the two decided it was high time to make their claim over the other a reality in an even more pleasurable way. Since there was no question as to who was topping Arthur happily allowed himself to be pinned, all but purring as he deliberately dragged his short, manicured nails over Eames's ass while he suggested that the forger make with the lube already.

Leaning across the mattress Eames yanked open the bedside drawer impatiently, quickly grabbing the lubricant before scanning for the other required item, the lack of which cut through the haze of lust that had him by the throat. "Oh fuck no."

All but writhing in agonizing need, he wanted the man so fucking bad he could scream, Arthur's eyes met Eames's, not liking what he saw there. "What?"

"I don't have any bloody protection." The statement was followed by some creative cursing as well as the information that he'd seen no reason to pick any up since they'd agreed to wait until after the job. "Are you going to change your-forget it, we'll both go to your room and-."

"I don't have any either."

"You? But…but…you're always so bloody prepared for everything!"

"I didn't think I'd need any until after the job either." Arthur couldn't believe the situation they now found themselves in. He'd just assumed that Eames was enough of a stud that he would always carry protection with him. And while it was actually nice to learn he was wrong in theory, in practice…he wanted to do some creative cursing as well.

Raking a hand through his sweat damp hair, Eames said a few more choice words and then reined himself in that much further. "I'll go find a place, you stay here. I'll tan your pretty ass raw if you try and get all rational on me now, Darling. I'm having you and that's that."

Arthur moaned into Eames's mouth when the Englishman leaned back over to give him one last kiss before rising off the bed, obviously intending to leave him to do precisely what he'd said.

The words were out of Arthur's mouth before his brain realized what he was saying, much less suggesting.

"Stay. We don't need condoms."

Blinking in shock Eames stared at the point man, frozen in place.

Color flushing across his cheeks again, Arthur looked everywhere but the forger as he got out his reasoning in fits and starts. "We share needles….and Yusuf's studied us like we're his own, personal lab rats since he got here. We know we're both clean so…so we don't need condoms unless you think otherwise."

Swallowing hard Eames couldn't seem to find his voice. He'd certainly played the field when he was younger, but never once, in the whole of his sex life, had he ever had sex without a condom. It was just plain stupid to take that kind of chance after all, especially given his present profession. But he knew Arthur was right and…and fuck, the idea Arthur's words were painting in his head now. To take the point man that way, make him his that way…know him that way.

"You're…you're sure?" Eames finally managed to get out, his heart bouncing up to his throat when Arthur finally met his gaze and nodded. "Ah, Darling. Arthur."

Returning to the bed Eames shifted so that he was once again straddling his man, putting everything he had into the kisses he pressed against Arthur's lips while arching into every stroke of the man's hands as they ran up and down his back.

He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around it even after he'd retrieved the lubricant once more and turned his attention to coating his fingers and then Arthur's tight entrance as he worked it open for him. Logically he knew that he'd entered the other man without protection plenty of times in their shared dreams due to the time period, but those were dreams and this most definitely wasn't.

This was reality…and it was so much better than any dream.

And it just kept on getting better, the forger realized minutes later when he'd replaced his fingers with his painfully hard erection, his whole body shuddering and flexing with the control he was exerting not to simply lose himself in the incredible pleasure shooting through his body with every slow, deep thrust. The lack of a condom shouldn't make a difference, he knew that, but his brain definitely didn't.

"Jesus, Jesus, Arthur." He managed to pant out, seeing echoes of his pleasure in the other man's eyes and reactions every time he drove home. "It makes a difference. Fuck if it doesn't make a difference."

Knowing instinctively what Eames meant Arthur's nod was a jerk, too focused on his own pleasure to do otherwise as he gasped out an explanation. "Not physical difference…mental. Most erogenous area, that's why the sensations are…FUCK! MORE. HARDER. EAMES!" Unable to stop his fingers from digging into the main's slippery shoulders Arthur was pretty sure he was drawing blood but couldn't bring himself to care as he felt his orgasm build with a quickness and intensity that blanked out everything else.

"Right there with you, Luv. Trust me." Groaning low in his throat Eames was just as overwhelmed and desperate, driving them closer and closer to the goal, losing all the finesse and skill he was so proud of as he forgot everything but thrusting in and out of the body that moved so perfectly beneath his, taking him so deep every time that he couldn't have said where his body began and Arthur's ended.

They were one entity with one goal, and when they reached it neither could deny the absolutely rightness of them.

)

It was a long while before Eames finally moved, and that was only because he figured the chances of them having sex again would significantly decrease if he kept crushing the other man under his weight. So he rolled them onto their sides so that they were facing each other, leaving only long enough to pull and tug the covers up and over them before turning his complete attention back to the man who'd just completely rocked his world.

Aware of the man's gaze Arthur called up on what strength he'd regained to open his eyes, pleased by how pleased Eames's looked. And since he'd always found pillow talk incredibly annoying and a total mood killer Arthur didn't say anything, content to remain as they were.

So of course Eames had to spoil it. "So I thought we weren't doing this till later, Darling. Not that I'm complaining, remotely."

"I couldn't stay away from you any longer." It was a sappy as hell answer, but it was the truth. And because it embarrassed him Arthur threw out a question of his own to distract them both. "So out of curiosity…why vampires?"

A rough chuckle was the forger's answer, his voice strained from all the talking and yelling he'd done a short time before. "I don't rightly know, actually. My best guess was that I was feeling just as tad bloodthirsty and my subconscious did the rest."

"Ah." Eames had seemed distracted and in a bad mood earlier, but they'd never been alone long enough for him to ask why. "Did you get into a fight with someone before I arrived?"

"Let's just say it was a trying day on a number of levels and leave it at that." He didn't want to get into his stupid jealousy issues at the moment, especially when he'd just had the most amazing sex of his life with the incredibly sexy man lying beside him with sleepy, pleasure filled eyes.

Dom had probably tried to make up for his monetary show of weakness and gone overboard, Arthur surmised. Plus he hadn't been there to rein the man in either which would have made it that much worse. "Sorry I wasn't there for the first part. And for bringing V into the dream too. I've been thinking about my past relationships a lot recently and…my subconscious also at work I suppose."

Picturing the female vampire he'd warned off Eames had to admit he hadn't been happy to see the Latina, though it had satisfied his curiosity as to what the girl looked like since they'd seen mostly her back, complete with tattoo, in the Youtube video. "I wouldn't have thought a girl like that would be you're type."

"If you're my type in men wouldn't it stand to reason my female type would be similar?" He seemed doomed to be attracted to tough, smart mouthed badasses, Arthur silently admitted ruefully.

Eames had to admit that that was a good point.

And since he didn't want to talk about Arthur's former lover Eames opted to change the topic to something he did want to discuss. "Will you stay with me, Darling?"

He knew he shouldn't, but Arthur nodded anyway. "Yes. Dom isn't likely to drop by tonight anyway, so that works. And if he does I'll just say I slept through his knocking."

"Drop by?"

Arthur made a sound of agreement. "Like last night."

"Is that why the dream went weird last night?" When Arthur gave him a questioning look Eames elaborated, watching the point man closely the whole time. "The dream went as they normally do, but shortly after I let you know I was there, in that bath area, things got hazy and this morning I couldn't remember what happened after that very well. Dom woke you up in the middle of the dream, so it was just me?"

He'd wondered about that. "He did. And then I couldn't go back to sleep because I didn't know if I'd say anything in my sleep that might clue Dom into my feelings for you. That's why I wasn't there this morning like usual. I must have finally passed out about five in the morning and he turned off my alarm. Usually my stamina's better than that, all the extra work on this job must have finally caught up with me."

When the forger didn't say anything, just watching him with the oddest look in his eyes, Arthur rethought what he'd just said, trying to pinpoint what he might have said to cool the warm look that had been in the other man's eyes moments before.

It took him longer than it should have to come up with a possible hypothesis, one that he dismissed as absolutely ridiculous at first, but which made more sense when he put himself in Eames's shoes if his hormones were completely in charge.

"Dom still isn't used to sleeping alone, and suffers from insomnia a lot because he so often dreams of Mal. Whenever we're working and it gets really bad he sleeps beside me so it doesn't affect the job. I'm no Mal, but apparently my presence is comforting to him."

"Ah."

"Yes, ah." Leaning in Arthur pressed his lips against Eames's in a soft, almost sweet kiss before drawing back. "And just so you know, if you ever even insinuate the possibility of Dom and I being sexually involved again I'll rack you. I have enough traumatizing images in my head as it is without you adding to them, capice?"

"Rack me?" Eames repeated, running a hand up and down Arthur's side affectionately. "That's a rather girlie move for you, Darling."

Pushing Eames over so that the forger was lying on his back Arthur straddled him and then leaned in, a devilish grin splitting his normally cool face. "I thought you'd prefer that…since I'd have to kiss it all better afterwards, now wouldn't I?"

He had to laugh. "I adore you, Arthur. Seriously."


	17. Skin Contact

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Skin Contact

Arthur really hadn't been at all surprised when Eames informed him that he didn't possess a single turtleneck and in fact had no intention of trying to hide the dark bruising that marked the forger as his. He'd asked how the man intended to explain the marks, but Eames had just winked and covertly snuck a kiss that had distracted him enough that the man had gotten away from him before he could really drill it into Eames head that he needed to be discreet about their relationship still.

So when Ariadne commented on them as soon as Eames walked into the warehouse to join them, Arthur was completely unprepared for the other man's excuse.

Knowing what she was referring to Eames just grinned, throwing in a wink for good measure. "On the contrary, Ariadne, twasn't a lover's bite at all but a vampire's. I barely escaped with my life."

"Really?" There was laughter in her voice as she pretended to study the hickies with great interest. "Because I would think, if that were the case, you'd have puncture wounds from the vampire's fangs instead of signs of being nibbled on."

"Well he had to sample the goods, now didn't he? Apparently I'm bloody delicious, in case you were wondering. He was so busy with that that he underestimated me, which is how I got away. Though it was a fierce scuffle, I'll give him that."

"Yusuf, it might be in all our best interests for you to do some scans of Eames's brains. I know it will be difficult to find, but I'd rather know now how much it's decreased in size since the last time it was looked over." Arthur informed the chemist, the look he sent Eames suggesting he was thinking someone needed to whack the Englishman upside the head.

Acting like he'd been stabbed Eames staggered around, making Ariadne giggle in delight.

And deciding to join in the teasing Ariadne linked her arm through Arthur's. "So you don't believe in mystical creatures and beings, Arthur? No vampires or werewolves for you, even though you like reading Harry Potter?"

"I'm not terrible fond of the literature and films out there that depict those particular creatures. Ancient, mythical beings from various cultures can be fascinating to read about, but people tend to either discount the characteristics of said creatures that don't appeal to them or turn them into grotesque monsters that bear little resemblance to their original forms."

Having recovered from his 'wounds', Eames moved to stand on Arthur's side, effectively bookending the man as he threw a friendly arm over his lover's shoulder. "So I take it you weren't Team Jacob or Team Edward then, Darling?"

"You don't want to hear what I think of people who would dare to even compare my Harry Potter to Twilight." The point man's voice said it all. "And anyone who would want to become the sort of vampire depicted in that series is obviously short on brains for not truly understanding the consequences of living forever. As for the werewolves…well if they're anything like actual wolves then only an idiot would want to sleep with one of them even if they didn't shed and constantly destroy innocent articles of clothing."

Ridiculously amused Ariadne cocked her head to the side. "Now you've got me curious…why wouldn't you want to sleep with one of them?" It couldn't be the whole doggie style thing, she didn't think Arthur was that prudish.

"Does the phrase 'knotting' mean anything to you?"

The other two shared a confused look, Ariadne asking him what he meant since obviously he couldn't mean knotting as in quilting or rope tying.

"Look it up."

Sliding out from both their holds Arthur left them behind, not at all surprised to hear Ariadne offer to look it up on her phone. He'd just leave them to their research, and that would hopefully insure that everyone would forget all about the hickies he'd placed on Eames throat and the incredibly stupid excuse the forger had come up with.

It took them a couple minutes, likely because they hadn't thought to include wolves in the search initially.

"HOLY SHIT! AND THEY'RE JUST STUCK LIKE THAT?!"

Wincing at Eames's loud exclamation, Arthur started to rethink what direction he'd pointed them in, especially since it belatedly occurred to him that Eames might decide to try out being a werewolf since they'd already gone the vampire route.

Thank God it was his turn to control the dream, was all the point man could say, though just in case he was going to send Eames a text that made it clear the forger wasn't to even think about turning them into werewolves at some later date.

There were way cooler mystical beings he'd rather be turned into, if it came to that.

)

Their Dream

Slowly opening his eyes Arthur tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It was foreign to him, the expansion of…wood above him? He was on land, obviously, and he sensed he was in his human form. And…and he smelled Eames, the selkie realized, his eyes opening that much wider as he abruptly sat up, a hand automatically going to his waist at the slight twinge of pain that movement caused.

There was a wound that looked days old there, a long, jagged one.

It was the mark that flooded his mind with memories, the pieces coming together. He'd been swimming through an old ship wreck, looking at the human trinkets and oddities when the ship, which he'd thought steady on its rocky perch, had tilted, unexpected slamming him into a jagged part of the wreckage which had torn into his side. The wound had been deep and he'd started losing blood fast. He'd known his only chance was to get onto land and transform into his human guise, as the transition from seal to human would close the wound. So that's precisely what he'd done before blacking out, and now he was here.

The shipwreck hadn't been far from the lighthouse Eames called home…the man must have found him on the rocks and brought him here.

He was in human form…his pelt. Where was his pelt?

Forgetting all else Arthur threw aside the blankets and completely naked started to search around him, his panic growing by leaps and bounds when he couldn't find it.

By the gods, what if it had washed away while he was unconscious? What if someone had found it before Eames had found him and decided to sell it, heartlessly leaving him where he lay because he or she didn't know, didn't believe in his kind? Without his pelt he'd never be able to change back, would be stuck on this wretched land as a human until he died.

Or…what if Eames had it?

If Eames had it…the man would give it back, Arthur told himself even as a little voice whispered that if the human wished to keep it he wouldn't stand much of a chance. Eames was stronger than him, and would know all the hiding places this strange place offered.

They'd been the best of friends with the potential to be more once though, Eames coming from a family that had run the lighthouse for generations. So close as pups, but time had separated them when Eames had gotten old enough to be sent to the mainland for schooling and interaction with others of his kind. And when he'd had come back on holidays…it had angered him that the other man longed to return to the excitement of the towns and cities he'd visited. He'd loved him then, and the betrayal…

So he'd stopped coming to see the young man, even after Eames had come to stay permanently after the passing of his father.

And now, when Eames returned from wherever he'd gone…it would be the first time they'd spoken in at least ten human years.

Feeling ridiculously nervous, and hating that fact, Arthur forced himself to sit cross legged on the bed, knowing he needed to conserve his energy regardless of how this turned out. His hair was still a little damp, and he smelled of the sea he loved beyond words. He hadn't been unconscious long. And he had to believe that despite the time his former friend had spent around the corrupt and greedy humans, who seemed to be determined to overpopulate the world they lived in, Eames wouldn't have changed so much that he'd use his pelt against him.

He was still reassuring himself fifteen minutes later when he heard the sound of footsteps on wood, signaling Eames's approach before the man himself opened the door and stepped inside.

"So you're awake then."

"Where's my pelt?"

Without answering the question Eames walked over to a nearby desk, dragged the chair over, and then took a seat facing the bed. Only then did he open his mouth once again. "We haven't spoken in close to eleven years and THAT's the first thing you have to say to me?"

"Thank you for your help earlier. Now where's my pelt?"

"Safe." Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Eames's eyes drilled into his. "I'll give it back to you shortly. For now we're going to talk."

Moving with the quick agility his kind was known for, Arthur slide up and forward on his knees, his eyes fierce and promising untold injury if he didn't get what he wanted. "It's mine! Give it to me!"

Getting off the chair Eames walked over to a nearby dresser, which Arthur took to mean his pelt was being fetched up until a pair of trousers were tossed at him instead.

"We can't talk if you stay naked. Put those on, will ya?"

Arthur threw the article of clothing onto the floor in answer, every line in his body defiant and unbending.

Shaking his head Eames retook his seat, seeming to force his eyes to remain on his face. "Look, you know I'm not some arse who will try to use your sealskin against you. Or you bloody well should know. The only reason I'm not giving it to you right now is that I've been trying to talk to you for the past three years and you've ignored me." Here he took a calming breath, his tone changing to the charming, persuasive voice Arthur remembered well. "I messed up. I know that. I hurt your feelings, and the fact that I didn't mean to doesn't change that. I've tried to apologize, but you refuse to listen so I'm reduced to this. And don't say you aren't interesting in mending things between us, I've seen you following my boat when the water's been rough, or watching me from the rocks when you think I'm not looking. I know you miss me too."

Hating that he'd been caught spying and watching over the man, Arthur did his best to sniff dismissively. "This is my home too. It's natural that you'd catch sight of me occasionally. That will be changing shortly."

"Swimming away, Darling?"

Refusing to react outwardly to the endearment, though inwardly his heartbeat picked up like mad, Arthur answered with a sort of truth. "One of my kind wishes to marry me, and his territory is further down the coast."

"Married? HIM?!"

Actually, he had no intention of marrying Ian, but no need to tell Eames that. "My kind does marry those who are like us in sex too. He's made his interest known and shown himself to be a capable provider."

"You're fucking around with this stupid selkie?"

Not liking the Englishman's tone at all, Arthur's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Obviously, if you'll look at my neck, that's not the case. But either way who I chose to share my body with is none of your concern."

It took Eames a moment to figure out the neck thing, both because he had a red haze in front of his eyes and because the man's naked body was distracting him so friggin badly. But eventually Eames did remember enough about seals to remember that when they were courting they usually mouthed each other's necks and bit playfully.

Arthur's neck, at least for the moment, was unmarked and therefore unclaimed.

"You aren't marrying this bloke."

"What part of 'it's not your concern' did you fail to grasp?"

Getting off the chair Eames stalked over like the predator he was in this instance, leaning in so that their noses almost touched as he stated what to him had always been a fact, since they were boys together.

"You're mine. I won't let anyone else have you."

)

Arthur's sputtered response was cut off by the mouth that suddenly pressed against his, silencing him even as it sparked his body into reaction, betraying him completely as he surged forward seconds after freezing in shock, his only thought to get closer as the sensations Eames inspired in him took over.

They'd shared nothing more than innocent kisses and touches when they were young, never anything like this. Never between them before had there been this fierce battle of tongues and teeth, with hot hands that moved over Arthur's flesh like heated, possessive brands that marked him as Eames's. And just when he was starting to get enough sense together to remember all the reasons why he should be slugging the human who was putting his hands all over him, the fiend stopped kissing him and began to bite and suck on his neck.

Moaning low in completely surrender, Arthur let his head lull to the side to give the man complete access to the highly sensitive column. And when they tumbled back onto the bed he quite happily stretched out beneath the man, rubbing up against Eames's hard body as he groaned out requests for more.

Obviously knowing a weakness when he found it Eames continued his passionate assault on Arthur's neck, his weight on his bent knees as his hands were busy cupping the selkie's ass, grinding their erections together in a rhythm that shortly had them so lost in the heat of the moment that neither thought of anything beyond the need to mate their bodies.

Shedding his clothes without care for their damage Eames turned his attention back to Arthur's body as quickly as possible, applying his mouth and teeth now to the rest of the selkie's body, marking it further as he sucked and nibbled his way around the lithe, salty skin, paying special attention to the man's nipples until they were painfully erect and wet from his attention.

Running his hands down the man's sides Arthur made yummy noises in appreciation for the impressive musculature he encountered, especially since selkies men were generally built like himself and he'd never taken a human lover. Eames was the only one who interested him. What he'd been missing, he thought smugly, even as his prior thoughts spurned him to curve those hands further down and in, taking a firm grip of the erection rubbing so temptingly against his own.

And over Eames's groan Arthur made something very clear, their eyes meeting and holding. "If you mate with me I won't take being discarded so lightly this time. I'll cut it off and shove it up your own arse. I swear it."

Eames raised an eyebrow at the threat but didn't look the least bit worried. In fact, he actually looked pleased, which Arthur didn't know what to make of.

"Selkies, in the old stories, don't ever stay with their lovers." The man finally said, sliding one hand between Arthur's legs to stroke the spot there that was guaranteed to make the selkie squirm in pleasure. "Should I take that statement to mean you won't be doing the same?"

Bucking his hips to increase the pressure Eames's fingers were putting on that spot, Arthur's lips curved into a strained smirk. "Of course they didn't stay. Those stories, they're all about idiots who stole one of our skins and refused to return them so that they could keep their selkie human and bound to them. Taking our pelt is akin to ripping off a bird's wings so it can't fly. Who wouldn't leave a man who would do that to someone he claims to love? But you'll give me my pelt back, and so I'll come back to you."

"Promise?"

Raising his free hand Arthur stroked his fingers through the other man's short hair. "As long as you remain true, yes, I promise. Or if you cannot please me enough, that's a promise breaker too." He added with a small smirk, not about to reveal the feelings that still dwelled in his heart for this man until he knew it was truly safe to do so.

"Oh I'll please you." Eames promised huskily, nipping Arthur's bottom lip in retaliation for suggesting it might be otherwise. "I'll please you to the point that you'll forget all about your pelt and want nothing more then to stay in this bed with me."

Bracing his hands on the man's shoulders Arthur pushed him up enough to give him enough room to turn over, rubbing his back up against the man's chest. "Show me."

Eames dropped a kiss on Arthur's shoulder. "Hold that thought."

Allowing the man to move off him Arthur rested his head on the man's pillow to try and gain some control over himself, his head swimming from this sudden change in their circumstances. He really shouldn't be doing this, especially given the intrinsic problems that would arise from them trying to build an actual relationship. Eames was a man of the land and he of the sea. And while they could touch each other at times one always had mastery over the other.

Shifting up to his elbows Arthur was about to get up when something dark brown was carefully set beside him as Eames shifted to cover his body with his.

His pelt.

Reaching out Arthur stroked the fur with his fingers, his eyes going just as soft.

So he made not a sound of complaint when Eames's fingers began to stroke him intimately in preparation for what was to come, moaning his pleasure instead as he moved to take each additional finger deeper into his body as the minutes ticked by and the anticipation grew.

Leaning forward Eames kissed Arthur's shoulder, his voice husky with need. "You taste and smell of the sea."

Reaching behind him Arthur cupped the back of Eames's head, deliberately purring out his words. "Take me often enough and I'll smell of you to my kind, and they'll all know I'm yours alone."

Withdrawing his fingers Eames placed one last kiss on the other shoulders and then positioning himself began to slowly work his way inside the body that quivered and arched against him.

Only when he was fully seated inside his lover did Eames comment, his words making Arthur both laugh and moan his pleasure.

"Now that's an idea I can get behind."

)

Okay, I actually did some research on this, and all the stories I found were about female selkies. The stories confirm that there were males as well, but all that's consistently said about them is that they're good looking, of slim build, and that if a woman cried seven tears into the sea one of the males would come from the sea and show her a good time. The seal behavior was researched as well, but I decided to make selkies okay with gay marriage of my own volition.


	18. Loving Cars

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

Happy New Year

Loving Cars

Opening his eyes slowly Eames looked down, a smile curving his lips at the sight of the dark head resting on his shoulder. Well that proved his earlier theory, the forger thought as he lifted a hand to thread his fingers into Arthur's silky hair. The point man was not the sort to display affection outside the bedroom, even with people he knew well. Yesterday they'd had sex three times, the first frantic, the second very passionate, and the third slow and dreamy because they'd only been half awake for a lot of it. After the first two Arthur had stayed close, but with a little space between their bodies as they cooled down and their minds clicked back into reality. But that third time, the third time Arthur had set his head on his shoulder, pressed up against his side, and had stayed there until they'd gotten up that morning.

He'd slipped into Arthur's bed this morning after the dream, unable to stay away, and to smooth his way had slipped into his lover's bed with loving strokes and kisses. They'd only made love the one time before slipping back into sleep, and again Arthur had snuggled up against him afterwards and stayed there.

People probably didn't ever heap attention on the point man, at least not constantly and with real feeling behind it. Arthur also knew how to freeze people out like no one's business, and wasn't a people person to begin with. But if he kept making it clear to his lover that it wasn't just sex, that he loved to touch him and be with him, then maybe, just maybe, he could wiggle his way past the other man's defenses and really make a go of this.

Because as crazy as it sounded, and it did seem crazy given their past together, it felt completely natural to love Arthur in his dreams, and who they were in the dreams was basically themselves; only their life stories changed really.

Feeling Arthur start to stir Eames watched closely, having missed the sight the morning before. And as he watched the man's lashes fluttered, and then Arthur's head tipped up to look at him, a beautiful, somehow innocent smile shaping those firm lips as the point man's eyes opened halfway to meet his gaze.

It didn't last long, Arthur threw off the sleep and the smile quickly, but he didn't move away, though Eames's sharp eyes picked up the fact that the point man was definitely not used to waking up so close to someone else.

"Morning."

"Good morning." Aware that he sounded a little prim, which was embarrassing, Arthur forced himself to relax, especially since it wasn't actually that big a hardship, to stay so close when Eames was so warm and comfortable to press against.

"A selkie, hmm?"

Arthur smiled a little. "I never liked the fact that there weren't any stories about the males, so I used to make up stories in my head."

"And acted them out with your friends…or siblings?" When Arthur just gave him a narrow eyed, slightly suspicious look, Eames gave the ass he was so fond of a little pinch. "I'm not asking for specifics, though we both know you've probably hacked my life story by now."

Knowing the man was right Arthur hesitated, considering what to say and how to say it. "No siblings. Parents died when I was a kid. I was raised by my grandmother after that. She died when I was almost done university. I have no family, and no close friends, though there are people who would help me if need be…in New York, where I'm from. Everything else you know, or I would think you should by now seeing as you're a forger and therefore supposed to be somewhat observant."

For good measure he pinched Eames's ass right back, having not appreciated the gesture at all.

Trust Arthur to give him so little. But yes, he could fill in at least some of the blanks on his own because of past observation and the little things he'd learned from the dreams. He'd gather more though, a lot more.

"So given what you know about my past, would we have gotten along as kids, Darling?"

"When we were kids, probably. Teens and twenties…we would have been okay, but not friends. I lost interest in all but casual friends by the time I left high school. Too much trouble for too little reward." A rueful little smile curved Arthur's lips for a moment. "I'd have slept with you though, especially if you were wearing one of your uniforms."

He'd gone to military school and then followed in his father's and brothers' footsteps to the real deal. "I always preferred my leather jacket, actually, but yeah, the uniforms definitely helped me get dates. Not that I needed the help."

"Of course not."

Stroking the man's ass now, he loved it after all, Eames responded to Arthur's teasing voice in kind. "And speaking of leather jackets, Luv, I've always loved how you look in one."

"Still no on the leather pants." Pause. "But I like a good leather jacket too."

Lapsing into amused silence, they remained content and quiet for several minutes until their attentions shifted over to the cell phone Arthur had set on his bedside table, the sound it made indicating that he'd received a text.

Reaching out Eames grabbed it and handed it over.

Reading the message Arthur's face settled into work mode. "Word just came in. Fischer Senior died this morning."

"No loss to the world, that one."

"True. But it means we're out of time too."

Placing a finger under Arthur's chin Eames waited until their eyes met before he shook his head. "No, Darling. We're not out of time, we're just going to have to finish this job very shortly."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he gave the forger a small kiss too, to let him know he understood.

)

Their Dream

Pulling into the garage Eames parked his car beside his parents' and then got out, absently rolling his shoulders to work the kinks out. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to getting the hell out of his uniform and into bed. He'd been dragged out by friends who'd asked him to keep the uniform on to help them attract girls, knowing he wouldn't be a threat to their chances seeing as he was both gay and taken. And while normally he was always happy to help a mate out the music had been bad, the friends pissed by the time he'd gotten there, and the atmosphere the pits.

On top of that he hadn't even been able to wear his bloody leather jacket, a prized possession of his, because someone had taken it out of his room since his last visit home and his mum and sibs hadn't known a thing about it…so they said.

He wasn't buying it and intended to kick brotherly arse in the near future.

Hence his blah mood and early arrival home.

Turning his head at the sound of two firm knocks at the garage door, Eames called out for whoever it was to enter, his curiosity piqued.

As he watched the door open Eames's eyebrows rose at the sight of his unexpected visitor, and not just because the man in question wore his 'misplaced' leather jacket. He recognized the slender body immediately, even though the top half was dwarfed by his jacket, and the garage lights were on so he could make out the face that was half boy, half man, both cute and sexy with the knife edge cheekbones and hair with just a hint of curl to it to remind people he was actually only twenty.

"I was looking for that jacket."

"Tim left it at my place the last time he came to charm my grandma into feeding him. I thought it wise to hold onto it for you until you got back."

"Thanks." His own mum couldn't cook to save her life, bless her soul. Arthur's gran, on the other hand, was brilliant at it and always happy to feed anyone who came to her door, including his jacket stealing little brother.

Nodding his head Arthur walked closer, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "It's very warm. If it were my size I'd have been tempted to keep it."

Tucking his hands into his own pockets, Eames watched as Arthur walked over to his car instead of him, running a hand over the hood without so much as glancing in his direction.

"So still running okay? It was giving you problems before you left."

"Yeah, but we worked on it on base when we had the time." Moving to stand beside Arthur Eames pretended to study the car too, though really he just wanted to get closer. "I thought you weren't talking to me."

"Did I say I wasn't talking to you?"

"No. But you didn't answer any of my phone calls, texts, or emails etc etc in the last thirty seven days."

He'd counted too, Arthur thought, but didn't say. "I've been busy."

Eames snorted, some of the anger showing in his eyes as he recalled how he'd started to think something might have happened to his 'lover; before his mum had assured him Arthur was fine. "Busy trying to kill yourself on your bleeding bike and working yourself half to death between your job and school you mean."

It was Arthur's turn to snort. "School's easy. An idiot could get a law degree from that school. And you've seen me bike, you know there's nothing on the road I can't handle."

"A law degree you're only getting because your grandfather and father were lawyers and your gran likes the idea. And yeah, I've seen you bike. I've had the nightmares to bloody well prove it. I don't even want to know how many bones you've broken while I was gone." Though he did.

He'd only cracked a rib a little, Arthur mentally fumed, and that had been a taxi's fault, not his. "Don't talk to me about courting injury. You're the one preparing to possibly die for a country, for pretty much a world that doesn't deserve a drop of your blood, much less your life. At least being a lawyer won't get me killed."

"Your granddad died of a bloody heart attack when you were seven because of his job!"

"He died because he worked like a dog as a public defender, drank way too much coffee, smoked like a chimney, and never exercised. Heart problems ran in his side of the family, he should have known better." It went unsaid that he himself was in excellent shape, and took care of his body food and exercise wise.

Injury wise…not so well.

But not wanting to start a fight about that Eames took a calming breath, letting it out slowly. "You know I only say these things because I care. Same as you."

Arthur jerked his shoulder in acknowledgement of that.

"So eloquent. Well come on then, let's go on inside and warm us both up. Though I guess you're warm enough, wearing this." Reaching out Eames fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, teasingly tugging it down.

And then he almost swallowed his tongue when his teasing revealed nothing but skin instead of the jumper or T-shirt he'd been expecting.

And the farther he drew the zipper down, the more skin he saw.

Spreading the material aside with both hands Eames stared at Arthur's bare chest, moving his hands to stroke over the warm skin automatically, pausing at the faint discoloration of a bruise before looking back up to meet Arthur's eyes. "Hurts?"

Not waiting for an answer, Eames squatted down and placed a kiss over the mark, another when Arthur informed him that it was old and he didn't even feel it anymore.

And that more importantly, Arthur informed him, he wanted him to get back up so that he could apply his lips to something that needed their touch a lot more.

Rising to his full height Eames only had time enough to ask where that place was before Arthur was moving in to press their chests close as he fit their mouths together for a proper 'welcome home' kiss.

)

Habit had Eames moving the both of them with his superior size, backing Arthur up against the hood of the car so that the other man had nowhere to go now that he had him once more. Nowhere but up apparently, Eames not the least upset when Arthur moved to sit on the hood instead of lean against it.

Once seated Arthur pulled Eames that much closer, widening his legs so that his lover could settle between them, locking his limbs around his man's waist to make sure that Eames didn't have any escape either as he continued to kiss him back eagerly.

When he pulled away Eames nuzzled his cheek against the other man's neck. "Say you missed me."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I didn't miss you, I'm pissed at you. And if you weren't so good at making me want you and only you, I could just dump your perfect ass and move on to someone who doesn't live two hours away, on a fucking army base full of homophobic gun fanatics who would love to use my bi ass for target practice." Very deliberately Arthur dragged his nails down either side of Eames's spine. "You know I could replace you easily, right?"

Eames nipped the man's neck in retaliation, and then lifted his head and pressed their foreheads together while their eyes met and held. "No. Because your trick riding and me are the only things that make you happy. You said so yourself."

Cheeks flaming with color Arthur knew there was no point in reminding the stupid jarhead that he'd been drunk at the time. The bastard had it recorded on his cell too, because he'd said plenty of interesting things that night and Eames had wanted to preserve them. Dammit.

"You love me and I love you." Sliding his fingers through Arthur's hair in loving strokes, Eames didn't doubt this, though he also knew his lover was strong willed enough to back away from what they had. "You missed me even though you were pissed, admit it."

A long pause followed, but the stroking had the effect Eames had known it would, dammit. Just like the man's willingness to admit his feelings did him in every time, making him go ridiculously gooey inside. "My mood has been markedly despondent and melancholic since your last visit."

Grinning in response, he knew Arthur had used the big words just for him, Eames's tone went back to teasing. "I knew you missed me."

"I wouldn't be so smug if I were you. Especially since you're missing out whenever you're away from me."

"Am I now?"

Putting his hands on Eames's chest Arthur unwrapped his legs from around the man's waist and then firmly pushed him back enough so that he could slide back off the car. "Yeah." And to prove it, suddenly needing to prove it, Arthur reached out and undid his lover's belt, dress pants, and zipper before dropping down to his knees.

Eyes going wide Eames swallowed hard as Arthur took his erection in hand, the younger man's tongue coming out to tease him with flicks and drawn out strokes. And then it was just the tip sucked into the smart mouth he loved so much, torturing him until he was begging and not caring who heard him.

Only then did Arthur open his mouth wide to take him all in, sucking him off with slow, steady pulls.

It wasn't the first time his lover had done this, but it was a rare thing. Arthur disliked bowing his head or being on his knees before anyone, that stubborn pride of his. But when he did, oh when he did the bone dissolving pleasure was enough to bring him to his own knees, Eames acknowledged, digging his fingers into Arthur's shoulders just in case.

Surrendering to the heat Eames moaned out encouragement, doing his best to move as little as possible until he couldn't help it, his climax building with the constant stimulation that soon sent him over the edge, coming in Arthur's mouth before he could even give the other man warning.

"Ah Darling, you did miss me."

Not even wanting to think about how much he'd missed Eames, it was damn embarrassing, Arthur just shrugged it off, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand once he'd risen to his feet. His feeling for the jerk weakened him, he thought as he allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. But he was downright pathetic without him. "I expect you to make it up to me, making me wait for you to come back."

"Shall I start making it up to you now?"

Not protesting when Eames's hands undid the button on his jeans Arthur pointed out dryly that he wasn't 'up' to making it up to him at the moment.

"We'll see about that. Back up on the hood."

Shivering from anticipation Arthur did as ordered, raising his hips a little so that Eames could slide his jeans down just enough to provide him full access without exposing too much skin to the cool night air. After that Arthur stole a couple last kisses before lying back on his back, spreading his legs as much as he was able to before closing his eyes, wanting to concentrate completely on Eames's mouth as his lover turned his attention to returning the favor so to speak.

Soon gasping his pleasure as his already heated system went into overdrive, Arthur's fingers slide over the hood of the car for something to brace against but finding nothing. But that wasn't really important, because all he really needed was the man devoting himself so completely to his pleasure and he knew it.

Thinking that, knowing that, Arthur cried out what Eames had been wanting to hear for the past month.

"I missed you. I love you."


	19. Leather Jackets

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Leather Jackets

Arthur was so embarrassed he couldn't even look in Eames's direction. It wasn't the fact that he'd gone down on the guy in the dream, he'd done that in the musician dream too, it was that…it had been too close to reality. Too close for comfort. Too much of what could have been had he and Eames known each other back when they were in their early twenties. The other dreams, by and large, had been different enough, they'd been just different enough, that you couldn't possibly think they were anything but a dream. The dream last night could have been a memory, that was how real and accurate it had felt to him.

Ergo he wanted to curl up somewhere and die before Eames realized the shift in his feelings for the idiot.

His mind should be on the job, especially now, but all he could think about was Eames! He was getting zero work done and he knew it! Thank God they hadn't really known each other while he was in school or he would have actually had to try in his subjects instead of breezing through them so that he could do more interesting things with his time like his biking and computer hacking. Though there was four years between them in age, so even with his grade skipping he still would have been too young to interest Eames, at least in high school.

But if they'd been the same age, with classes together…his teachers had always been annoyed that he'd never needed to pay attention to ace their classes, but with Eames around it wouldn't have been boredom that kept his attention focused elsewhere.

Looking over when his laptop signaled for his attention, Arthur picked it up and saw that Eames had sent him a file. And it was…a downloaded song? But why? The artist and song title weren't even familiar to him. 'Another Night' by McCoy? What was Eames up to?

He was puzzled enough to look in the forger's direction, but Eames was pretending to be absorbed in something else.

Retrieving the ear buds he wore when he wanted to tune everyone else out while he was working, Arthur plugged them in and then put the buds into his ears, thinking to listen while he finished up on his computer. Or that was the plan right up until the file began to play, his eyebrows knitting together at the music, it had to be late eighties, early nineties, began to fill his ears.

What the hell?

Listening closely to the lyrics it didn't take Arthur long to figure out why the Englishman had picked this particular song, though why the man wanted to advertise his bad taste in music was beyond him. So the beat and chorus were sort of catchy, but it was one of those songs where there was too much repetition and…and-

Laughing in spite of himself Arthur couldn't help but grin, he just couldn't stop himself.

And on cue his phone buzzed, the message that appeared across it made up of three words. 'Made You Smile'

Oh. Understanding dawning Arthur realized why Eames had picked this song instead of the hundreds of other tunes out there that were about love, sex or dreams. Why the man hadn't gone with something more popular, sexier, or even romantic since that had seemed to be Eames's mood the last couple days. Eames had picked this silly song because he knew it would make him laugh.

Which, dammit, made him go gooey in spite of himself.

It was because of the gooeyness that his mind turned to a way to respond, to return the favor and let Eames know that he'd understood the gesture.

After several moments of contemplation and reviewing his mental list of songs, Arthur smiled a little and then went online to find what he was looking for, downloading the correct file and then, after listening to it to make sure it wasn't corrupted or badly recorded, sent it to Eames.

He didn't look, but he listened for a reaction, knowing that in this case Eames would probably recognize the title, if not the group. His was a lot older than Eames's choice, but he was willing to lay odds that at the very least Eames would know 'Mr. Sandman' from the movie 'Back to the Future'. Though what he'd sent Eames was the original version by the Chordettes, so it was about a guy instead of a girl.

And moments later Arthur was rewarded with the sound of a chuckle he knew came from Eames. Score.

)

Their Dream

Walking down the sidewalk Arthur decided to stop and grab a coke from Joe's before he headed home. He was on foot since he'd crashed his bike recently, and the cold drink would make the long walk more bearable. It was a Saturday night so the place would be hopping, filled with teenagers on dates or hoping to pick someone up. Not his scene, but he'd be in and out in minutes.

Vanity had him stopping in front of the electronics store beside Joe's to check his appearance in the display window, pulling out a comb to make sure his hair was slicked back perfectly, not a strand out of place. His clothes were those of a typical greaser, though far more clean and pressed than most. The white tee he wore under his black leather jacket was spotless, his blue jeans turned up at the cuffs perfectly. He might have been born on the wrong side of the tracks, and he'd been conscripted into his neighborhood's gang before he'd started to shave, but he had pride enough for three men according to some and a sense of style he refused to give up.

Dom said he needed a reality check about his place in the world, he thought Dom needed to look beyond the big picture once in a while before it got his friend killed.

Shaking his head over the thought Arthur pushed it aside and continued on to Joe's, a waitress on roller skates whizzing by him on the way to a table full of teenagers waiting for their burgers and fries. Elvis was on the jukebox and the night was young, he thought cynically, walking over to the counter to order that bottle of pop to go, passing over the money.

Thanking the girl for popping the top for him, Arthur took a slug as he turned around, not lowering the bottle when he caught sight of a group of four sitting in the back corner, swallowing reflectively. Because while he could care less about three of them, it was the one watching him that had his heart racing as he slowly lowered his coke, forcing himself to make a small nod of acknowledgement.

Tom Eames had been the most popular guy in school, having the three things that most guaranteed adoration and acceptance in high school. The man was good looking, great at sports, and hung out with the right sort of people. Other jocks and cheerleaders mostly, though the man was charming enough to get along with most anyone when he put his mind to it.

The 'to die for' British accent was really just icing on the cake.

And a hazard to his own health, Arthur thought as he headed for the door. Even if they hadn't both been guys, and Eames had ever thought of him as anyone other than the lab partner who'd gotten him through science with a passing grade, their kinds didn't mix unless it was to rumble and they were aiming to beat the hell out of each other.

He and Eames had never faced off that way, but when you hung out with the people they both associated with it was only nature that blood would be shed. His side jealous of all the advantages the elites had, while the others liked to prove their superiority…or to prevent their girls from cheating on them with a greaser they wanted to pick up so that they could give a 'bad boy' a try.

He'd only stepped out and taken a few steps when he heard the door open behind him and a voice hailing him in an oh so familiar voice.

"Yo, Blake, wait a minute."

Turning to face the other man, what else could he do, Arthur naturally slipped into the cocky, insolent posture of one of his ilk. Though he'd bet serious money most of his neighbors didn't know what 'insolent' or 'ilk' meant. "What?"

"You need a ride home, right?"

His shock had him forgetting to keep his cool. "What?"

"You're only up to one word sentences now that school's over?" Eames teased, hands in his pockets as he moved in closer. "You're on your way home from work, right? I heard that bastard Dallas and his git stooges thought it funny to try and run you off the road a couple days ago. I also heard you wrecked your bike in the process. I've got my car here, I'll give you a ride. Hell, I wouldn't have got it as a graduation present if you hadn't helped me out in science so you can consider this my show of gratitude."

Naturally he knew about the car, everyone had seen and drooled over the brand new 1954 Cadillac Eldorado Eames' parents had bought him.

"Obviously one of your jock friends has the brain you all take turns using. Beat it."

Arthur turned to continue on his way but froze when Eames asked him point blank if he was scared to be seen with him. That had him whirling back around, heat flaring in his dark eyes. "Come again?"

"You heard me. It'll take you an hour to walk, right, so the only reason you're saying no is that you're too scared of what your hood friends will think. Wouldn't have took you for a coward, Blake, but I guess I was wrong seeing as letting me give you a lift makes the most sense, especially since you know I've got no beef with you and never have."

He knew it was stupid to let his pride and ego get in the way, they were his only two weaknesses he ever had to be careful about, but damn…the idea of EAMES thinking him a coward, on top of knowing that soon they'd both be going their separate ways, never to see each other again most likely, had him agreeing to the ride before he really thought it through.

And after that he had to follow the other man to the sexy black beast Eames's called his car, doing his best to hide his interest and pleasure as he took the ride in while Eames moved around the hood to take the driver's seat. This was one boss set of wheels.

In moments they were peeling out of the parking lot, Arthur deliberately trying to ignore the other man which was next to impossible, even with the radio playing softly in the background.

"So Dallas and his lot didn't mess you up too badly? Just your bike?"

Arthur automatically snorted. "It will be a cold day in hell before that friend of yours can outmaneuver me."

"Being on the same soccer team as him doesn't make him my mate. I don't like him either."

"You mean football team."

"No, I bloody well mean soccer! No matter what you Yanks seem to think, tossing all that bleeding tea into the fucking water doesn't give you the right to go and call OUR sport what you like. You can keep your stupid SOCCER, I only played it here because our school didn't have a FOOTBALL team, but we invented the bloody sport of football and that's what it is!"

And just like that Eames descended into a rant about how Americans didn't even had a clue what football really was, their girlie, pathetic version of it so wimpy in comparison to the greatest sport ever invented in the teenager's opinion.

)

Letting the man rant since it passed the time, and okay the man's sexy accent was that much hotter when he was pissed, Arthur didn't comment until it was time to put into action the plan he'd started formulating once his acceptance of the ride had sunk into his stunned brain.

"Turn left up ahead, the dirt road."

Having been cut off in mid rant Eames showed surprise but didn't question, apparently trusting Arthur to have a reason for his request. Though as they turned on and were surrounded by trees he could feel the tension mounting, Eames obviously becoming more wary of where he was being led.

Then the trees were gone and there was what looked like a well used parking spot before the ground dropped off.

"I've never been here before."

"No surprise. This is our territory, a make out point."

When Eames's head whipped around to look at him, very much a deer in headlights, Arthur had to laugh, grinning like an idiot. And he couldn't help it, the cuteness of the man's reaction made him have to tease the jock a little.

So he unbuckled his belt and set his empty coke bottle on the floor before sliding across the seat so that they were side by side with their heads turned towards each other. Leaning in so that their lips almost touched Arthur purred out his exit line. "Relax, Mr. Football, your virtue is safe from me. Thanks for the lift, I can walk from here."

Leaning back with a smug smirk on his face, Arthur didn't have time to get out of the car, his eyes going huge as Eames's fingers touched him, gently cupping his cheek while his thumb stroked over the skin in a way that kept him in place, body unwilling to move away or react. And then Eames said his first name, and that was all it took to have him moving closer again to meet the head already angling to align their lips together as 'Mr. Sandman' began playing on the radio.

The heat and chemistry was immediate, teenage hormones providing the rest of their incentive to get as close and physical as possible. So while lips and tongues got very busy with the other's both men sent their hands out to touch and explore the body pressed against their own, shirts pulled out of jeans so that bare skin could come into play.

Pulling away after several minutes of passionate kissing, they stared into each other's eyes, some common sense rearing its logical head as their brains wrapped around what they'd just done. Hands dropping back to their sides they just froze, unable to move.

"You just…" Arthur began lamely.

"We both…" Eames couldn't do much better.

Lapsing into silence Arthur wanted to insist that Eames had made the first move, but there were two obvious problems with that argument. The first was that that would mean it was now his turn to make the next move, the second that it would put him in a submissive role if he were to wait on the other man to make all the moves.

And dammit, he didn't want to stop either. He wanted to keep being touched and kissed and…was he the coward Eames had accused him of being earlier? It wasn't like he didn't have former girlfriends to back up his prowess with the opposite sex if Eames told anyone that he'd put the moves on him. So really, since he was moving soon…what did he have to lose?

Mind made up Arthur cautiously leaned in and began to place soft, questioning kisses along the stubble covered jaw, moving down Eames's neck when no move was made to stop him. No, Eames sighed his name softly again, prompting him to nip just a little since Arthur was such a weird name to stick a kid with. He preferred Blake or Wilee.

Sliding his hands back under Arthur's shirt Eames proved that he'd been paying attention by deliberately stroking the other man's spine as he murmured in Arthur's ear. "If you're just teasing me…it would be a good idea for you to scram while I'll still let you. You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

The man's words going straight to his head…and okay, his heart too, Arthur was about to make it clear that he was Eames's for the taking when something occurred to him. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" The reason Eames didn't date was because he had a girl back in England who he wrote to constantly. Everyone knew that.

"Casey, who goes by the nickname Mumbles, is my best mate. HE and I have zero interest in each other, but letting everyone around here think I was taken meant I didn't have to fake date some girl. Is that why you never made a move till now? If I'd known that I'd have clued you in long ago."

Oh. Huh. Well in that case…

Moving in with blurring speed Arthur yanked Eames back into his arms and got down to the business of getting as up close and personal as the car would allow. There was enough of a nip in the air that clothing needed to stay on too, but that didn't stop them from making out like the teenagers they were until both of them were more than happy to let their hormones take complete control of their common sense.

Tumbling backwards with his back against the car door, Arthur was more than happy to be pinned there under Eames weight as the enthusiastic making out continued.

When Eames drew back a little Arthur opened his mouth to complain, closing it against as he watched Eames's hands move to the front of his jeans, gasping as those strong fingers began to stroke him through the denim. He didn't know which killed him more, Arthur thought dimly as he rocked his hips into those fingers, the touching or the way Eames was watching him intently to make sure his touch was okay.

Reaching out Arthur made his acceptance plain as he drew Eames's head back down to show his pleasure, digging his fingers into the man's letter jacket once he had him exactly where he wanted him.

And it wasn't long before it wasn't enough, Arthur making no objection when Eames unbuttoned and then pulled down his zipper, letting him drag the denim and underwear down his hips to bare him to Eames's eyes. It took some maneuvering on both their parts to get the clothing off, but desperation was on their side and they managed.

Reaching out Arthur undid Eames's jeans and tugged them down just far enough, his heart rate picking up and beating like mad over the sight.

Obviously not wanting to waste time Eames shifted and quickly opened his glove compartment, thanking his mum out loud for foisting a container of hand cream on him. Item retrieved Eames placed one knee between Arthur and the seat, bracing his other on the car floor. Leaning over the slighter man as he stole several more hot, open mouth kisses to distract Arthur from what his fingers were doing as they became intimately acquainted with Arthur's ass.

"Eames!"

"Easy, easy, Luv. Just relax, I know what I'm doing."

"You better."

Going still Eames lifted a questioning brow, a very pleased grin crossing his face. "I'm your first then?"

Color flushing his cheeks, Arthur stuck his chin out stubbornly. "Only when it comes to men. What of it?"

"I'm honored."

"Shove it."

"I was being serious." Eames informed him, the kiss he placed on Arthur's lips sweet and gentle. "I meant it early too…I've been bloody crazy about you since I met you. I just always seemed to rub you the wrong way." Seeing the answer in Arthur's eyes Eames smiled that much wider. "Or I rubbed you the right way, and you were hiding it by acting all prickly?"

Arthur slid a hand up the front of Eames's parted jeans and then wrapped his fingers around the man's erection. "You want to talk or you want to use this?"

"And you say I'm the one with no patience."

"You aren't the only one who's been waiting."

"Well neither of us has to wait anymore, do we?" Eames assured him as he turned his attention to making it all worth the wait.

And boy was it ever.


	20. Show Time

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Show Time

When Arthur awoke to find his head once again resting on Eames's shoulder he couldn't believe it. It just wasn't in his nature to sleep peacefully when his personal space was encroached to this degree. Frankly he'd never been the type to get physically close or affectionate towards anyone unless sex was involved or he felt he had to allow it for some reason. Yet here he lay with his body pressed up against the forger's, having slept long and deeply.

Today was the day too, the point man silently acknowledged, the thought making his stomach clench in agitation. God but he had such a bad feeling about this job. Had from the start and it was only getting worse now that the day had arrived.

If he got an ulcer as a result of this job he was going to take it out in Dom's blood at this point. Eames could hold his jacket for him.

And Eames would probably be happy to do it, Arthur acknowledged as he turned his attention back to the man he lay against. To the fact that if things went wrong today this could be the last time he woke up beside the man outside of the dreams they continued to share. They'd be lucky to get adjoining cells if that was their fate, though a bullet to the brain was more likely if Saito had any say in it if things went south. Or limbo was always an option, especially when you were attempting an inception.

Lucky them.

He was a realist and cynical, you never wanted to talk percentages and chances with him. So Arthur knew what their odds of success were even if he had failed to get anyone else to listen to him on the matter. Limbo or death were very real possibilities, the latter a definite possibility even if they succeeded. Saito wouldn't flinch about ordering their deaths once they were no longer useful after all. The man was supposed to be big on honor, but Arthur had been around thieves too long to trust that. At the end of the day Eames was the only member of their team he could trust and vice versa. The others were either too inexperienced or too self-motivated to be trusted.

So this could be it…and it would be a shame to waste what time they had sleeping.

Lips curving ruefully at the thought, it always seemed to come back to sex when he thought of Eames now, Arthur managed to wiggle and slide himself out of the forger's grasp, going to the bathroom to take care of business, brush his teeth, and fix his hair a little. After all, if this was going to be it he was damn well going to look good for it.

And okay, he just plain hated people seeing his hair when it was a mess. Damn bedhead.

Once that was all taken care of Arthur came back to bed, sliding under the covers and shifting over until he was straddling the forger so that he could stare down at the man's sleeping face with a mixture of desire and soft fondness. Eames really did look so very sexy when he was sleeping, the stubble just adding to it so that Arthur couldn't resist dragging his fingertips over it, enjoying the rasp of it.

What am I going to do with you, Arthur wondered as he stroked, especially if I end up wanting to keep you.

"You're thinking very loudly, Darling."

The sound of the man's voice had Arthur double checking that Eames's eyes were indeed still closed. They were, but those lush lips he loved to bite were tilting up in a half grin and he could sense that the forger was indeed awake and aware.

"Sorry. I guess most of your other lovers weren't big on thinking."

A chuckle was Eames's response, taking the comment in stride as his eyes opened just enough for him to see Arthur's face. "You can't really question the intelligence of my men now that you're sleeping with me, Arthur. Though I know you'll miss that terribly."

"True."

"So what were you think about, dare I ask?"

"You said before that you know I've looked into your past, and I have, so I know that you don't have any more luck than I do when it comes to relationships. To making them work. I have Facebook and Twitter posts written about me to prove it." Lips curving ruefully Arthur forced the next words out because he was a man who hated regrets and strove not to have them whenever possible. "But you…you want to really give this a try, don't you? If we make it through today."

Running his hands up and down Arthur's bare torso Eames teased while he tried to find the right words. "Such confidence in my forging skills, Arthur. I'm blushing."

Deliberately waiting until Arthur was opening his mouth to deliver a no doubt sarcastic response Eames drew the surprised man down for a heated kiss to seal the words between them, using his tongue to distract and lure his lover into relaxing against him. Because as much as it excited him to feel the man's weight on him, and boy did it bloody ever, there was something surprisingly right and soothing about it too. It was like every taste and touch reinforced the reason why they should risk killing each other later by attempting to have a serious relationship, Eames thought when he broke off the kiss, staring into Arthur's dazed, slumberous eyes.

"Yes, Luv. I intend to do everything possible to convince you to stick with me after this job and our planned holiday is over."

"You fuzz my brain." Arthur grumbled halfheartedly, rolling his eyes at how pleased his comment obviously made Eames. That figured.

So turnabout was fair play, the point man decided as he leaned in to return their lips to their earlier activity, keeping the kisses long and deep so that they paused only when their starving lungs demanded oxygen. And they were already naked, so there were no clothes to hinder them once they started to stroke and caress, fingers moving lazily over smooth, warm skin.

They were lost in each other, as opposed to passion, Arthur thought as he tilted his head to the side as Eames gently sampled the pale column. It was about pleasure and had nothing to do with wanting the bang that inadvertently came at the end of their sexual encounters. This whole making love thing was another ball game when played this way.

Thinking along the same lines Eames pulled away long enough to grin and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, his hands teasing as he ran his fingers over the dips and curved of Arthur's ass. "After the job we should spend a day like this. A day in bed with nothing to do but get our hands on every inch of each other's body."

"We'd kill ourselves trying."

"Damn fine way to go though, you have to admit."

But Arthur shook his head. "No. I'd rather have years of this instead."

"Years sounds good to me too." Was Eames's husky reply before he turned back to what he'd been doing prior, hiding his face against the side of Arthur's neck.

Understanding perfectly Arthur didn't say anything, losing himself in touching Eames and enjoying the other man's touch. The minutes ticked by that way, the small fires they'd been building eventually reaching each other to become a blaze hot enough that eventually release had to be sought before it became unbearable.

Quite deliberately Eames brought Arthur to climax with his fingers while he was preparing his lover to take him, wanting and needing to see the beauty of it on the other man's face while he was aware enough to appreciate it. To be able to memorize it so that every moment of this lovemaking was etched on his brain forever, Eames thought with love in his eyes.

The arms he'd braced on Eames's shoulders kept Arthur from collapsing against his lover's chest, a desire to return the favor keeping him there until he had the strength to sit up straight again. Humming low in his throat Arthur stretched under Eames's hands like a cat before very slowly and deliberately, his eyes never leaving Eames's, reached around and guided the other man's erection inside of him, moving his hips just enough to slowly take him in as deeply as he could.

Leaning forward Arthur stole one last lingering kiss before he turned his attention to returning the pleasure he'd just been given.

"Ah, Darling." Eames sighed as Arthur started to move, his eyes hooded as he maintained the eye contact that made the sensations inspired after each thrust that much hotter and more powerful than the last. He didn't hurry Arthur's slow, steady rhythm, savoring it instead as he dug his fingers lightly into the other man's hips as he moved just as smoothly into each thrust.

Eames climaxed first, the physical and visual stimulation sending him over the edge with a low, appreciative moan while Arthur continued to ride him until the point man came as well, allowing himself to collapse onto Eames's chest this time.

And they stayed like that until it was time to get up and prepare for the day.

Prepare for the job.

)

Inception

Doing his best not to be obvious Arthur couldn't help but glance in the direction of the closed door constantly. He knew that Eames was more than capable of handling Fischer, the man believed the forger was Browning and was currently calm and in a reflective mood. Their target had done nothing but discuss business plans and his father since they'd transported the two from the river to this building and thus far Fischer's subconscious had left them alone. He just wished he knew whether or not Fischer still knew they were dreaming. For the moment he and Ariadne were disguised as police officers, the hope being that if there was trouble Fischer would automatically go along with them because of what they represented. You were generally taught to trust and follow orders from cops, especially when you'd just come out of a high risk situation.

But since nothing about this job had gone right Arthur wouldn't count on that being the case. Knowing their luck Fischer had had a bad experience with a law official in the past he didn't know about his disguise would come back to bite him in the ass.

"Arthur?"

Turning his head to meet Ariadne's gaze Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Uhm…maybe this isn't the best time to ask…but if everything works there might not be time and…I was just wondering…" Ariande didn't finish her sentence, her cheeks flushed with color.

Understanding what she was asking Arthur allowed himself a small smile. "You were psyching yourself out and it was drawing too much attention to us. I told you to kiss me because I knew it would focus your attention first on me, and then on analyzing it to death as you tried to figure out why and what I meant by it. It's what you women do and it worked well enough."

"Oh."

Pretty sure that it was in his best interests not to say anything further, especially since she was already all emotional over the possibility that they'd lost Dom, Arthur turned his attention to the nearby mirror to double check that the alterations he'd made were holding. He didn't want Fischer to see the similarities between his current guise and the man who'd been driving the taxi he'd been hijacked in after all.

Despite how easy Eames made it look it wasn't a snap to alter one's physical appearance and keep it that way, especially under pressure. It was not one of his skills, apparently he lacked the 'imagination' for it, so the changes he'd made to his form were subtle ones. His hair was now military short, his eyes color changed to blue and his body bulked up a little. He'd added an eye catching military tat on his neck to go with his perfectly pressed and spotless uniform for added spin.

Eames had given him a nod of approval, so it must be just enough in the man's opinion.

And speak of the devil, Arthur thought as his gaze immediately moved at the sound of the door being opened. Eames as Browning came out, reminding Fischer that all he had to do was ask for him and he'd be right back. He was going to talk with the police officer in the next room for a bit.

Fischer's response was too faint for either Arthur or Ariadne to catch, but he must have agreed since Eames closed the door firmly behind him.

"He wants some time to himself, you'll come and get me if he needs me?" Eames asked Ariadne, still maintaining Browning's persona in case he could be heard in the next room. When she nodded he smiled, gave her a wink to reassure, and then pointed towards another room in the suite with his thumb, Arthur nodding in understanding.

Eames reached the door first and opened it with a grand flourish, motioning for Arthur to go in ahead of him. Once they were both inside Eames closed and locked the door, opening his arms as soon as he'd turned back to face Arthur as himself once more, ridiculously grateful that the other man was already walking into them.

Wrapping his arms around Eames's waist in return Arthur closed his eyes as he just hung on, lips curving when the forger nuzzled their cheeks together. They weren't stuck in limbo and they'd pulled off the job so to speak. Dom and Saito were missing in action currently, but they had every reason to believe that the former could get them both back as he'd done it before. If not then they'd get the hell off the plane and go under, they knew how and were prepared for that contingency.

And if the men came back and Saito ended up committing suicide later like Mal…well it wouldn't exactly be a great loss to the world, Arthur thought darkly, still pissed at how early on in the game Saito had become a weight around their necks.

"You were bloody brilliant using the elevator for the kick, Darling."

"I tried to dream a little bigger."

Chuckling in response Eames lifted a hand to remove the police cap, tossing it onto a nearby dresser before tipping up Arthur's face so that he could steal a slow, thorough kiss that settled them both down so that their nerves weren't quite so obvious to the other as they had been.

Content to stay in the forger's arms until Ariadne, Fischer or Yusuf demanded their attention, Arthur reached up to stroke his fingers through the man's hair, appreciating that the man looked like himself again. It would have felt off being held by either of the two personas Eames had adopted for this job. It would feel wrong to be held by anyone else, the point man silently admitted to himself, anyone but Eames.

"So do you think Cobb or Saito messed with your research so that you didn't know young Fischer had been trained against our sort?" When Arthur gave him a surprised look Eames smirked knowingly. "No need to be modest, Luv, I know you don't miss details like that. And once we got a look at what we were up against projection wise, it wasn't hard to figure out our Mr. Fischer was trained by Benson. You'd have checked his databases, he's a corporate favorite after all. So someone had to have gone into your computer or his files and deleted or blocked that info. My gut says Saito, but Cobb's just full of surprises it seems so he can't be discounted."

Arthur gave him a passionate kiss of thanks for the vote of confidence before stating that he'd find out as soon as they woke up and he could get at his laptop. Either way, even if one of them had sabotaged him…it was his responsibility and he should have been more careful.

Shaking his head Eames didn't argue, wanting to save his breath. Besides, he'd much rather concentrate on the fact that they were on the home stretch and things were looking up. He'd never been on a dangerous job with someone he might very well be in love with, and quite frankly it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat anytime soon. His time as a soldier had prepared him for what it was like to go into battle with comrades, people you would be upset to lose, but none of that had prepared him for going onto the next level of the dream in that hotel room. Leaving Arthur behind to face the projections alone, knowing he couldn't stay and protect him for all their sakes had been brutal. Absolutely brutal.

"You're tired."

Not about to argue Eames nodded in agreement as he allowed himself to rest against Arthur a little. He was mentally exhausted from keeping up with his personas, fighting the projections, and worrying like mad that something would happen to Arthur when he wasn't close enough to protect his lover.

"Stretch out on the bed then. I'll stay with you and cover."

Loathed to leave his present position but knowing he needed to rest his brain for a bit, Eames reluctantly nodded and turned Arthur loose, letting the man lead him over towards the bed. Stretching out on it without bothering with the covers, they'd get in his way if he needed to move quickly, Eames's lips curved into a smile when Arthur gave him a slight shove.

Moving over Eames closed his eyes, feeling the mattress dip more as Arthur took a seat with his back braced against the headboard beside him. Protecting him, the forger thought with a wider smile.

He felt loved, and it was a damn good feeling.


	21. After Inception

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the storyline. Thanks for reading.

Note: If you want this dream to continue into the next chapter let me know.

After Inception

Standing off to the side Eames waited with his suitcase, watching Arthur as the man wheeled a trolley over to the conveyer belt since of course the man had more clothes than any of them. That was his darling for you, the forger thought fondly, though to be fair his lover also had the dream machine and such to take care of. Forcing himself to scan the rest of the area, in case Saito had any surprises for them, he made himself nod in Cobb's direction as the man walked towards the exit, willing to let the man live to see his tots since they'd all gotten out in one piece.

He was never working with the bastard again though, and would try and get Arthur to do the same.

No, Eames silently corrected, to hell with that. He'd tie his man to a bed if he even suggested the possibility of teaming up with the self-serving gobshite again.

Because he was never, ever, going to be put in a situation where Arthur's life was in danger and he couldn't do a damn thing again. He'd thought he understood while in the dream, helping the others keep the first dream together while they waited to wake up and see if the other two had made it, but he'd been wrong. It was once they'd gotten out and he'd checked his totem three times that his training had disintegrated enough for the depths of his fear to truly show itself and take him by the throat like a rabid animal.

That feeling hadn't abated much, and if he didn't get Arthur alone soon so that he could just hold onto him, Eames had a feeling he was going to crack and do something stupid or violent. Most likely violent since he really, really wanted to hit someone and Cobb was no longer around.

Turning his attention to Yusuf, who was looking in his direction, Eames gave the chemist a look that made it plain they weren't even on speaking terms and the bloke should consider himself lucky he didn't beat the shit out of him at the very least. Cobb's had been a gobshite because of his kids and his god complex, Yusuf had sold them all out for money. And in the mood he was in Yusuf was looking like a damn fine punching bag.

Watching the man pale a little and hastily look away did make Eames feel a little better, but not much.

Arthur had noticed the byplay, Eames noted when his attention turned back to him, his lover coming over with Ariadne. The girl was giving Yusuf a pitying look, but then she was a far softer touch than him or his point man. She probably wasn't even irked at Cobb.

"There he goes." Arthur murmured, motioning ever so slightly in the direction of Saito with a jerk of his chin. He was damn glad to see the back of the man, especially since he hoped never to cross paths with the Asian crime boss again. Was going to make sure he didn't to the best of his ability.

"Still dazed but he's holding together." Eames agreed, eyeing Arthur's trolley before deciding that the other man would probably get annoyed as opposed to grateful if he offered to take it and have Arthur pull his suitcase, which was quite a bit lighter. Stubborn man, his darling. "So your flight isn't for a couple hours, Ariadne?"

"About that. I figure I'll get something to eat and…read or something until then." She was going home to Ontario to visit her family briefly before going back to France. How she was going to explain the sudden influx of money…well hopefully she'd come up with something better than the excuses she'd already come up with because she knew they wouldn't fly.

Eames had expected Arthur's manners to demand they continue to engage in chitchat or offer to keep the girl company until her flight arrived, so he was pleasantly surprised when his man told Ariadne that regretfully they had a car waiting for them.

"Oh. For both of you?" Her surprise was written all over her face.

"The mission was worse than even I anticipated." Arthur informed her bluntly. "And harder on Eames than us. He shouldn't be behind the wheel right now and so I'll see him safely to his temporary place of residence."

"Arthur has a thing about taxis as you'll recall. Doesn't trust them." Eames added, understanding that they weren't going to be trust anyone with the truth of their relationship for the time being. Better they appear divided if Saito had plans for them in the near future that they needed to avoid.

Believing them Ariadne informed Arthur that she thought that was really nice of him, her tone indicating that she had no idea they weren't still squabbling teammates who could barely stand to work together most days.

Waving that off Arthur accepted her hug good bye and wished her well, watching her repeat the gesture with Eames before he started towards the exit, saying nothing when Eames quickly hurried after him and fell into step with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Do we really have a car waiting, Darling?" He asked in a low voice, having left everything in the point man's hands. Someone else driving while they lounged in the back sounded heavenly at the moment.

"Yes. And we'll be switching vehicles three times before sticking with the rental waiting for us."

"A lot of traveling then."

"And when we get to our destination I'm going to order food in, eat it, and then I am going to bed and sleeping this whole disastrous mission off." As an afterthought Arthur added that Eames was welcome to join him.

Laughing, Eames assured him that he was a hundred percent behind that idea, feeling a little better already. But he took Arthur into his arms as soon as they were in the car Arthur had hired, taking full advantage of the tinted windows to cuddle and kiss his man to his heart's content, grateful that the point man understood and let him.

Their Dream

The night was warm and the breeze mild, the grass beneath him comfortable though he hardly noticed. He was there and yet not, Eames's eyes unseeing as he stared off into space. In his mind he was still in battle, the smells of death and blood all around him, the sting of sweat in his eyes and the aches of muscles that had been asked to go beyond their endurance. The screams and wordless gasps of the dying, his own shouts as he watched someone he knew fall, knowing the other man wouldn't get up again. He had survived the final battle when so many hadn't, he knew that, and yet he couldn't seem to let it go and celebrate either.

In the camps set up nearby many celebrated, toasts made and drunk to with abandon. Middle Earth had been saved and the darkness defeated. The ring was no more and thus Sauron was no more. His people had lost much, including their king, but not even that could dim the fervor that had swept those who'd lived to tell the tale.

But he was not in the mood to join them.

He had been luckier than most, his father and younger brother had not ridden to the Black Gate of Mordor with him, the wounds they'd received protecting Helm's Deep too severe for them to accompany the others on what should have been a suicide mission. His mother and sisters were with them, tending them, and he would return to them without disfiguring or disabling injuries. Though his side was stitched and heavily bandaged, the worst of his wounds were not visible upon his body, residing instead in his mind.

Telling himself that it would do no good to sit and mourn for what could not be changed, that that would only make things worse, Eames tried to concentrate on the good things. On what had been accomplished, saved, and preserved. But he couldn't do it, unable not to remember the friends he'd lost, the boys that would never be men, and looking into the dead eyes of brave men and elves.

It was the image of an elf that had fallen so close to him in battle that haunted him most, the face so similar to another that his heart had stopped for the length of time it had taken him to kill the man's killer and then see for himself that the slack face and unseeing eyes were not the shell of the elvish beauty he'd seen two years before on a night much like this.

A long time for him, but not for any elf, Eames thought as his lips had curved ever so slightly. And then he was frowning again, for he knew that it was quite possible that the blond elf who had haunted his dreams for two very long years could have very well died on another part of the battle field, or earlier than that. Or perhaps he had left the way many of his kind had, giving up on Middle Earth and leaving it to its own impeding destruction.

Most of the elves who'd fought alongside them had either left or were remaining with their own kind, he didn't even have a name to put to them were he to seek them out and ask if they knew of the one he sought. No, he had never even spoken to the beautiful figure that had bewitched him one summer's night, though not for lack of wishing.

He'd been stretching his legs after a long day's ride, leaving camp behind but staying close enough that he could return quickly to his fellow riders were they to stumble upon an Orc or some other creature of darkness. When he'd caught sight of the stream he'd walked over to fill his flask, completing the task before his watchful eyes saw and were ensnared by the sight of a lone figure further up where the water widened and deepened into a waist high pool.

Over thirty in years he'd seen elves before, their beauty as legendary as their superior, elitist attitudes. So even now he couldn't say what it was about this one that had so bewitched him that the other man had nearly brought him to his knees at just a glance.

The man had been about his height, though slim in build like all elven males. Long, white blond hair had shone in the moonlight, every movement poetry as the elf bathed himself in the clear water without any notice that he was being watched. And then he had noticed, the faintest stiffening of limbs betraying his realization.

Naturally he'd expected the elf to ignore him or leave, perhaps come over to give him hell for spying on him as many would. But no, this one had chosen an entirely different method of punishing him for his actions. For as he'd watched and waited the other man had turned to face him fully and had returned to his bathing as though he weren't even there, stroking the white cloth in his hand over all that pale, perfect flesh in a manner that had sent what little blood he'd still had in his head down to fill his groin with hot need. But he hadn't moved, hadn't approached because he couldn't bear for it to end, to break the spell he was under even as his body begged him to do so.

So like a fool he'd watched until the elf had finished driving him half mad with desire, staying where he was even after the other man had left the water and headed onto shore to no doubt get dressed once again. He'd wavered as to whether to approach the blond then, finally heading over because he couldn't stand the idea of not catching another glimpse at the very least. But the elf had been gone without a trace, not even leaving a single track for him to follow.

He'd spent the past two years cursing the fact that he'd lacked the courage to act when he'd had the chance.

Now it was probably too late.

)

Rubbing his hands over his face again Eames rose to his feet, forcing himself to breath in and out to try and relax his sore body. And it was while he did that that he belatedly sensed that he was not alone. How close the unknown person was came as a complete surprise, Eames seeing a hand reaching out towards his shoulder suddenly without warning. And acting purely on instinct he whirled around and moved to restrain the other man, stopped by a foot as it hooked the back of his knee to send him falling back to the ground with the weight of another on top of him.

The air knocked out of him he still brought up a fist to defend himself, the action evaded with the simple lifting of the head. And then the hands that had rested against his chest came up to push back the hood of the cloak to reveal his 'attacker's' face.

"You."

The nearly white hair was drawn back at the front in intricate braiding that showed off the ears that marked his kind, the rest hanging loose and spilling over the elf's finely embroidered shirt. It was the face that had Eames's heart beating like a trapped bird though, a shudder running through his body when the man's lips curved knowingly, telling him that he wasn't the only one who knew. Who remembered.

"Eames, Rider of Rohon and son of Haymitch. We meet again."

"You know my name."

"Yes, that is what I do. I collect and record the information I gather throughout Middle Earth." Pause. "I am called Arthur."

Repeating the name softly, thinking that it suited him, Eames cautiously lifted a hand and when no action was taken to stop him gently cupped the other man's cheek. The skin was warm and silky, and his breath caught in his lungs when the elf ever so slightly nuzzled his hand. "I looked for you in battle, but I didn't see you. I thought perhaps you had left with the rest of your kind."

"I was not there for Helm's Deep, and I stayed close to my kin Legolas in the most recent of battles." Arthur paused again and then continued. "I was born to this place and I will die here. I had and have no interest in abandoning the land that provided me with life when its existence was threatened."

Pleased, but suddenly feeling more than a little awkward, Eames couldn't pull his hand away, feeling anchored by the contact, but he managed to ask if the other man had escaped the battle unscathed, it occurring to him that the elf's clothing could be hiding an injury.

"Minor injuries only. I am very fast, even for my kind." A questioning cock of the head. "You?"

He thought about brushing it off, but somehow knew better than to try with those intelligent, old eyes watching him so intently. "An Orc's blade caught me in the side, but the damage was not severe. It's been dealt with."

Not about to take the man's word when it came to an injury, he'd seen the stupidity of mortal men when it came to such things too often in his many years, Arthur shifted down and then gently lifted the man's shirt up his chest, noting immediately the greyish whiteness of the bandages that had been wrapped around the man's chest.

Concern flashing briefly across his finely carved face, Arthur gently ran his fingers over the bandaged area and then hid all emotion as he pointed out that Eames should head back to camp and rest in order to regain the strength the wound would have leeched out of him. He was too out in the open here as it was, and was obviously not up to the task of properly defending himself were he to be set upon by some dark creature looking for revenge against the victorious.

"You would not protect me?"

An arched dark eyebrow was Arthur's answer.

Uncertainty crossed Eames's face now. "You have to get back to…someone?"

A small, knowing smile crossed Arthur's lips then. "While there are those who might note my absence, my disappearance would surprise none. I am a traveler by nature, I don't dwell anywhere long. They will simply assume I've left, or am out gathering information from those who have not yet retired for the evening. As you should have already."

"I'm afraid I cannot sleep."

Not fooled by the lazy, offhanded way the rider had responded, Arthur jumped to the most logical of conclusions. "Your time on the battlefield haunts you. You are not accustomed to war." He had lived a very long time by human standards, and so could not say the same. But he did remember, because how could he have forgotten, what it was like to be surrounded by hundreds of dead and dying and knowing that those you loved and cared for were out there, and that others would weep that night for those you had slain.

And the recent battles had been worse than anything even he'd known, Arthur thought to himself as the other man looked away rather than admit that he was correct. "There is no shame in what you're feeling. If you did not feel those things you would be as dark and twisted a being as what we fought against. You would do a disservice to those who fell, if they did not weigh upon you."

He had no idea how old Arthur was, and it was probably rude to ask, so instead Eames asked if it got easier with time, the burden of living.

"It is only a burden if you don't live your life well."

Sliding the hand he'd placed against the other man's cheek around to cup the back of the elf's head, Eames shifted up on his elbow while he drew Arthur closer, hoping that the man understood that this was as much about thanks as it was a need for comfort as he pressed their lips together.

The kiss seemed to go on for a lifetime, time standing still for them as they lived in that moment of perfection as their lips moved over each other's in the pure offering of a respite from the harsh realities they would soon have to return to.

And neither would forget that first kiss either.


End file.
